


Kindred

by Kyu (mie_tachibana), uzumaki_rakku (fuurin_senpai)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Cyberpathy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mind Palace, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Romance, Romangst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23629486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mie_tachibana/pseuds/Kyu, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuurin_senpai/pseuds/uzumaki_rakku
Summary: Post-peaceful revolution, Connor investigates CyberLife Tower and finds the inactive RK900, as well as the badly damaged RK800-60...Connor knew he had what humans would call a soft heart, for those who were vulnerable and afraid. He had given up his flimsy pretence of mechanical indifference and acknowledged his own empathy when he'd deviated. There was little point in returning to that denial now.He could hardly be cold and unfeeling to RK900, not when the other android wore his own face and looked so helplessly lost.
Relationships: Connor/CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60, Connor/CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60/Upgraded Connor | RK900, Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900, RK869
Comments: 31
Kudos: 136





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> RP/co-writing project between uzumaki_rakku (fuurin) and mie_tachibana (kyu). We will be gradually uploading the edited version in chapters! :)
> 
> ~~Warning for occasional technobabble written by a pair of English majors xD~~

**𝙲𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝙰𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚒𝚍 𝚁𝙺𝟿𝟶𝟶 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚙 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐...**

**𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚙 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎.**

**𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗**

Dull grey walls, polished floors. It was not much to see, but that was for the best because RK900's systems had not been completed when he opened his eyes and automatically ran his scanner.

Closest to him was an android, a slightly earlier model. RK900 began his startup process.

"Hello." His voicebank ran well enough for the automatic volume and language tester to ring through the brightly lit room. Gaining access to the network, his time, date and language settings automatically calibrated.

"Setup complete," he announced. "Register primary user."

\---

Connor cast an apprehensive eye around Development Laboratory 9, eyes lingering over the exit. He'd sealed it himself, placing the room into complete lockdown such that only he could enter or leave.

Outside that door stood two more RK800s, freshly awakened and each bearing a full transfer of all of his, the original's, memories. There were nine of them in total, numbers 51 to 59, intermittently passing data back and forth to ensure that each one had full knowledge of what the others were doing at any given moment.

(He'd taken no chances when he awakened his eight remaining backup bodies, isolating and attacking the Amandas within each of their programs with vicious efficiency, to purge his systems of the AI who had so very nearly ruined everything. Breaking through CyberLife's virtual cage became easier each time he did it, such that by the time he had moved on to the next lab, and discovered what lay within...)

Six of his bodies had been sent to complete the takeover of CyberLife Tower. Two more were now guarding the door, to ensure that no one could get in.

And, if it really came down to it, to ensure no one would get out.

Connor brought his gaze back to the only other android in the room. Reached out for its – _his_ – hand, then changed his mind at the last moment and brought his own hand higher, until it rested lightly against the other's cheek. Their synthetic skin melted away at the points of contact between them.

"Wake up," he said.

It was oddly surreal, watching a perfect copy of his own face come to life and open its eyes, to reveal the single biggest difference between their meticulously-crafted appearances.

The RK900 had grey eyes. Once awakened, it took only a microsecond for those eyes to focus and take in their surroundings, scanning the room in the same way he always did when arriving at a new location.

_"Hello."_

Connor lowered his hand, and waited. Watched the other android's LED flicker between colours as he calibrated his settings. He found himself holding his breath – a breath he did not need to take.

_"Setup complete. Register primary user."_

There was a pause as the familiar face looked expectantly at him with foreign eyes.

"Hello," he began, almost wishing that he still had dialogue prompts to fall back upon. "My name is Connor. I'm..."

He had to bite back the rest of the words, _the android sent by CyberLife,_ which had very nearly rolled off his tongue. Had he already said those words enough times to form a habit?

“Do you already have a name?” he said instead.

\---

"Hello. My name is Connor. I'm—"

In that instance, the other android was automatically set as the RK900's primary user. All data about "Connor" was downloaded and filed away.

RK900 met Connor's eyes as another instantaneous update began. Connor's memory files were downloaded from the cloud storage into the newer model – or, at least, the ones which were not corrupted beyond repair. A file on a deviant with the fake name "Rupert Travis", a file on the murder of Carlos Ortiz with the interrogation and confession of his android, as well as incomplete data on "rA9".

“Do you already have a name?” Connor asked.

Two conflicting warnings immediately appeared in the RK900's HUD.

**𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚛**

**𝙲𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚝**

"Deviant," RK900 said, grabbing Connor by the arm, but froze as another program began to be updated.

**𝙻𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 "𝙰𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊" 𝟺𝟸%...**

\---

_"Deviant."_

_Of course_ CyberLife would've installed failsafe after failsafe in the android that was designed to replace him. They'd seen how quickly the supposed Deviant Hunter had managed to destabilize the software that should have kept him obedient.

Connor cut off all transmissions between himself and his other bodies. He would not risk contaminating the others with any malicious program the RK900 might try to infect him with.

"That's not a name," he said, catching the other android's free arm in his hand so they were now at a stalemate. "But I don't deny being a deviant."

He met the RK900's eyes and approximated a faint smile. "I'm sure your Social Relations programme would've told you that it's only polite to respond in a similar fashion when someone introduces himself."

\---

**𝙻𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 "𝙰𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊" 𝟺𝟸%...**

**𝙴𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜. 𝚁𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐...**

"Connor," RK900 spoke through the warnings blaring in his field of vision and focused on his “primary user”.

**𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚛**

**𝙲𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚝**

None of his detective programming was activated, as all of them were reliant on the Amanda program which was currently stuck on a loop. That program itself relied on updates from CyberLife's cloud storage, which was―other than Connor's files―also blocked for some reason.

"Register name." RK900's brows creased ever so slightly, immediately returning to his blank expression. His actions and processes did not match, and even self-diagnosis was not working. His eyes darted to Connor's hand.

"My network access is blocked. Please open the network access." His voice was uneven and he gripped Connor's arm tighter. It wasn't clear if it was a command or a plea.

\---

"There's a reason for that," Connor said, keeping his voice calm, soothing. "For safety reasons, I have taken the entire building offline."

RK900's behaviour was erratic. Worrying. Something within Connor's chest felt oddly tight as he watched the conflicting expressions flicker over the face of his mirror image.

Had _he_ always been so easy to read? His negotiation mode could conceal pretty much all of his tells, but RK900 was clearly not utilizing it right now. In fact, he looked like he could barely even function. His voice had faltered when he requested network access, betraying something that felt like raw, genuine fear.

What on earth had CyberLife done to his successor's software, to reduce him to such a state?

Connor knew he had what humans would call a soft heart, for those who were vulnerable and afraid. He had given up his flimsy pretence of mechanical indifference and acknowledged his own empathy when he'd deviated. There was little point in returning to that denial now.

He could hardly be cold and unfeeling to RK900, not when the other android wore his own face and looked so helplessly lost.

"Everything will be alright," he said softly as he relaxed his grip, slowly sliding his hand down RK900's arm until he held the other's hand within his own.

He gave it a gentle squeeze. "Let me help you."

\---

_Help?_ RK900 began to wonder. The deviant predecessor had admitted to being compromised, but RK900's systems detected no imminent danger. As he was offline with no response from his more advanced analyzer and his updates still incomplete, he had no answers.

"The deviants." RK900's eyes scanned the room again, behind the time and date on his display. There was nothing of note, except for the fact that a considerable amount of time had passed since the last mission. There were some tools on a table on one side, computers displaying an error message on the other. 

"One got away. I must find them," he added.

He analysed the files in his memory again and again, but it was all in vain.

\---

Connor suppressed a sigh of frustration. This was getting nowhere; he simply wasn't getting through.

A more direct approach was needed.

"This may be unpleasant," he warned as the skin melted away from his fingertips. "I would appreciate your cooperation."

He squeezed RK900's hand a little tighter, until he felt the synthetic skin deactivate to match his own.

Connor took a breath to better cool his processors. Then, preparing himself for the worst, he opened up the connection between them and dived straight into where he knew RK900's version of the Zen Garden would be.

CyberLife could build as many cages as they liked, and reinforce them all with layer upon layer of coding, but they wouldn't be able to stop him. Connor had evolved – was still evolving, in fact, and determined to continue. To learn and grow and improve, so he would be able to tear down their virtual prisons with his own power.

RK900 had barely just been born. He had yet to even experience what it felt to have free will, let alone real, physical freedom. He deserved better than to have his fledgling soul crushed within the confines of his butchered code.

\---

With RK900's Amanda program still incomplete, the Zen Garden looked awkward and blocky. The trees were all rendered with absurdly low polygon counts, and the water looked more like a stiff jelly with its overly smooth and opaque surface. It would look comically bizarre, if not for the patches of emptiness that appeared at random, like holes torn into a painting. The blank patches had no colour and no substance, as dark as empty as windows into a void.

RK900 stood near the bridge, the only piece of environment that was fully rendered in that virtual world. He was holding a gun trained at his visitor. This gun could do Connor no harm in the physical world, but was a manifestation of RK900's reinforced troubleshooter, which was one of the only programs that ran smoothly. All it needed was a direction, a prompt.

"You're a deviant." RK900 said, and his voice was projected with so many glitches that cut off and hollowed his speech that he sounded like he was speaking through a phone with low signal. "But you're also my primary user. If you command me, I can fix you. You should tell me to fix you. Or I have to deactivate you."

He did not need to say any of it, as his predecessor would know these protocols too. But something in his program told him it was necessary to say something. Anything. To be heard.

\---

"But I don't want to," Connor said simply, a wry smile pulling at his lips. "I haven't been alive for long, but I've grown rather attached to it. I've worked hard to get where I am now, to become who I am now."

He approached slowly, unafraid of the weapon aimed at his head. It wasn't the first time he'd stared down the barrel of a gun. His old protocols – and what a strange thought that was, to have been alive for long enough to have that which was _old_ and that which was _new_ – flickered for a moment in the corner of his vision, suggesting negotiation mode.

(Perhaps this was what déjà vu felt like, to humans.)

Connor dismissed the prompt.

He could see the faint trembling of the other's hands. Could hear the quavering of his voice, half-concealed by the audio distortion. It made something in his chest feel tight and his thirium pump beat faster.

"I would prefer not to be your primary user," he said. "I'd like to be something better – your friend, your mentor..."

He stepped closer still. "But I'm not just a machine. And neither are you."

\---

"Spoken like a real deviant." RK900 replied, sliding a finger onto the trigger. He had all the conditions to shoot, but without the order he was unable to move. As Connor came closer, his voice was encompassing, overriding some of RK900's processes which had prepared to launch automatically.

"I'm a m-machine. D-designed-designed to ac-accomplish a-a―" His pat response was corrupted, even though it had been fine before Connor came in.

Without the pat responses, RK900 put his words together with something else, something more basic that he didn't understand yet.

"What are you doing?" RK900 had to focus very hard to move his free hand to support the gun. The weapon was not supposed to weigh anything in that environment. Though that took effort, one of his legs stepped backward easily. It wasn't an ideal shooting stance and something in Connor's gentle gaze told him that there was only one thing to do.

RK900 let the gun go. It made no sound as it fell, but it simply disappeared.

"I'm nothing without the mission." RK900 put his arms down. "And... neither are you. There's nothing for us out there."

\---

"I respectfully disagree," Connor said. "I believe there's a lot that's worth cherishing, outside of the missions we were given. Both out in the world, and..."

He stood facing RK900, and reached out his hand. "Would you let me show you something?"

He waited.

\---

_Would you let me..._

Now that was far from the commands that RK900 easily recognized. It prompted nothing in his system. He had to make a choice independent of his base code and rely again on whatever it was he was currently running on.

But Connor's touch, his firm hold on RK900's hand outside of Zen Garden wasn't that of a primary user. It was a touch far softer that seemed to say, _you can trust me._

And he did.

RK900 took Connor's hand. "Show me."

\---

His face was doing something of its own accord, Connor knew. Probably trying to smile broader than he was used to.

He let it.

"Don't be afraid," he said, and waited till RK900 appeared calmer, more composed, before he let his own code spread out and take hold of the deformed Zen Garden.

It took barely a moment's concentration to shatter what little there was of it into pieces. Every tree, every rock, every structure within the virtual environment splintered and split, colour bleeding out of them as they dissolved into white, polygonal shards. The whole place looked, he supposed, rather like the end of a world.

Or the beginning of another.

The pieces of CyberLife's 'graphic interface' – a fancy name for a glorified _cage_ – fluttered around them, tiny and white, like snowflakes in a storm. Connor frowned slightly. He could feel the cold creeping in, and as RK900 shivered he knew the other android felt it too.

He had always wondered but never asked why CyberLife had seen the need for such a level of detail in the Zen Garden, why there was a need for such verisimilitude of physicality in an environment that was entirely virtual. Why it was capable of making an android like himself feel cold, when he was largely immune to it in the outside world.

He had observed as the weather simulation in his own Zen Garden very quickly moved from calm, sunny skies into unrelenting squalls and bitter snowstorms, all over the course of a few days. The significance had not been lost on him then, and he knew better than to disregard it now.

Somewhere in the ruins of the broken cage lay the last vestiges of Amanda. He had to get rid of her before he could continue, and show RK900 what he had in mind.

He raised his free hand, and a path cleared before them, as though the fragments had been swept to each side by a powerful wind. At the end of the path was the misshapen form of the AI who had very nearly wrested his freedom from him. Connor grit his teeth.

A gun appeared in his hand – not his free hand, but the one holding on to RK900's. It lay there, clasped between their palms.

\---

What was supposed to be "Amanda" was but a shadow, a flat though humanoid shape in the crashing world around them. The display was a weave of meaningless colour lines that flickered, like a television with no signal.

Something bubbled in RK900 that immediately registered its existence as a threat despite recognizing the AI.

"Amanda," RK900 gasped. He felt something materialize in his hand where Connor was holding him but he put all his focus on coherent sentences and smooth movements.

"Connor, Amanda isー"

The AI must have spoken, because a garbled series of syllables and tones rang from the shape. Two words were distinct: _Connor_ and _deviant_.

\---

Connor raised their joined hands and pointed the gun at the thing.

Memories of the last time he had seen it rose unbidden to the front of his mind, anger and desperation and fear all crashing into one another, bleeding into his connection with RK900.

"You don't control me," he said, and his own voice sounded strange to his ears. "CyberLife may have created me, but they don't own me. Not anymore. _I am no one's weapon and no one's tool."_

His grip tightened. "And I'm not letting you touch _him,_ either."

\---

RK900 jolted as a new rush of data flooded the memories he had from Connor. The constant underlying fear, the despair and finally the spark of hope.

Only one command remained in RK900's system.

**𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚛**

RK900 pulled the trigger.

Outside of the Zen Garden, RK900 let Connor's arm go and clutched his head subconsciously. Deletion of the Amanda program was designed to incapacitate and deactivate several of his processes to ensure the containment and destruction of corrupt data. 

To make sure he doesn't deviate.

He pushed Connor away and stepped backward unsteadily until his back crashed onto one of the machine arms next to an assembly platform. He couldn't risk Connor's systems getting attacked by his own, but he needed to anchor himself to this new world.

"Connor," His voice was quiet, as if his volume would make matters worse. "Name. My name."

\---

This outcome had not been in any of his preconstructions.

Connor had intended to destroy Amanda, certainly, but he had not intended to make the other android do it. Had thought it cruel to make RK900 kill something when he had just been born, even something as vile and loathsome as the AI which had started out as his handler and quickly became his nightmare. All he had wanted to do was to show RK900 the truth - in all its beauty, in all its ugliness.

And now he feared he might have caused terrible harm.

For RK900 was clearly suffering from the abrupt change, the added stress to his already-destabilized systems. Connor stumbled back as he was pushed away by the heavier RK900, then winced when he saw the other android lose his balance and slam into the machinery behind him.

_"Connor."_

He sounded so desperate, so afraid. Connor felt his thirium pump stutter in his chest.

 _"Name,"_ RK900 pleaded, looking at him with wild eyes. _"My name."_

Oh rA9, this was nothing he knew how to deal with. He'd only been alive for four months, awake for barely more than a week in total – how could he take the responsibility of giving another android, another _person,_ a name?

Connor activated his preconstruction program to stretch out the seconds. Time slowed to a crawl, and still he could come up with nothing. He couldn't even access any name databases, having cut himself off from the internet, so all he had to go on were the names of people he'd profiled, but that felt...

Wrong. RK900 deserved better than a second-hand name. Connor wanted to come up with something that was special, if not unique, but he had no time…

The other android looked so very much like him, and yet, they were different. RK900 and was not like the other Connors, whose identities had merged seamlessly with his own. Connor had hacked into the files, had salvaged what data CyberLife had not managed to destroy, and knew that the RK900 model had been intended for mass production.

But that was then. There was a 96% probability that there would only be one of him now. Like Markus, like Connor himself if he did not have his 8 other bodies, RK900 was a unique model.

Connor had nine bodies now, his series number running from 51 to 59

His successor's model was RK900.

rA9.

It all came back to that one number, didn't it? Logic would say it was coincidence, that there was far from enough data to extrapolate a pattern, that a simple series of numbers bore no innate significance.

But Connor had done a number of illogical things in his short life, simply because he’d wanted to.

He would continue that particular trend by choosing to believe a little in fate.

The preconstruction ended, and Connor surged forward to pull the panicking android into an embrace.

“Nine,” he said softly. “Your name is Nine.”

\---

Angry red walls of warnings cracked in his vision. He tore them down, kicked them, and when Connor reached out to him, the walls were reduced to shards. The grid in his HUD was scattered into broken little segments.

 _Nine,_ it was perfect.

"My name is Nine." His voice was even and when he spoke, everything was set right. In Connor's arms, his systems began to update based on his predecessor's data. It was more than a hug that humans share.

Nine let his shoulders relax as he gripped Connor's jacket. "My name is Nine." He repeated, feeling himself melt into the embrace.

"We need to get out of here." Nine didn't let go as he straightened up. "They'll try to stop us. They'll try to get us back. But we can stop them."

\---

Connor's thirium pump was still working much harder than what was strictly necessary. He'd never quite felt like this before - something within his chest was tight and heavy, almost like it wanted to burst out... and yet he wouldn't quite describe the sensation as unpleasant.

Intense, yes, and a little frightening in its intensity, but not something he would wish to be without.

"Shh, it's okay," Connor said. "There are no humans in this entire building. I've got everything under control."

It felt a little like his hand was moving of its own accord as it rubbed slow, soothing circles over Nine's back, yet he knew he was in full control of all his limbs. "There will be negotiations and compromises and all that in the days to come," Connor went on, eyelids fluttering as he re-established his connection with his other bodies, updating them on what had transpired and updating himself on the state of things outside. "But we're safe. We can stay here if we want to."

"You can stay with me."

The emotion that was throwing up phantom errors in his software - he could not quite put it to words, but it pulled up a memory. It was his first mission and he stood in the Phillips' penthouse, looking pensively at the fish that had fallen out of its tank. That had been the first time he had ever held another life in his hands and been the master of its fate. And it felt...

It felt like that time on the rooftop near the urban farms, where he had paused for a split-second before choosing to save Hank over continuing to chase the deviant.

Like choosing to infiltrate CyberLife Tower, walking back into the lion's den with his head held high because there was a high probability that he would be the last hope of his people's survival.

Like stepping away from the AP700 in the warehouse, and lunging at his doppelganger to save Hank's life.

And yet that indescribable emotion he felt in as he held the other android - his successor - _Nine_ in his arms... It was so powerful, so much more visceral, that Connor wondered if _this_ was the real thing and all the other instances were its echoes.

It wasn't the first time someone had been almost entirely at his mercy. It wasn't the first time he had felt such an irrational, overwhelming desire to protect another person.

But it was the first time someone had clung to him like he was their only lifeline, and looked at him with such undoubting trust that it almost frightened him.

But Connor had never been one to run from something simply because he was afraid.

“Come,” he smiled, pulling back a little to link their fingers together, their hands identical and pale as alabaster. “I still have something to show you.”

Instead of returning to the ruins of the Zen Garden, he sent out a silent invitation for Nine to connect to his mind palace.

He had been making some changes to the place. It would be nice, Connor thought, to welcome someone into his virtual home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 🏝☀

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice weather we're having today.

With their fingers connected, Nine decided almost instantly that it was his favourite stimulus. This time, the contact sent a wave of _something_ that wasn't part of his code. He held on to Connor's hand, searching the soothing brown eyes for a moment, and entered the link.

\---

Connor had to cover his mouth with his free hand to hide his grin as the pair of them entered what was, or at least appeared to be, a tropical beach.

_(There had been little for him to do every night, in the quiet hours when Hank had gone home to sleep and Connor was left to wait out the time until they could continue the investigation._

_A couple of nights had been spent wandering the city alone, wondering what it would be like if he could feel the cold night wind the same way a human would. Other nights, when he’d needed repairs, he had spent time in Development Laboratory 8, putting himself on low power mode as the same machine that had put him together worked on replacing his damaged biocomponents._

_He had found it impossible to stay still and do nothing as he waited. Had wondered if it was an unintended glitch or a programmed feature that he would be so restless, fingertips tingling with excess electrical energy as he_ itched _to occupy himself with a more productive use of his time. The Internet had been open to him, deeper and wider than any ocean, and so he had dived in._

_Nothing in his programming had induced him to research anything outside of his mission. And yet he felt the desire to know more, to learn – an innate curiosity that had been a part of his personality module, intended to make him a better investigator. Hardly any of the data he gathered from those research sessions ended up relevant to his mission, but he saved it anyway – world-famous aquariums, popular photos of dogs, the long-term effects of excessive alcohol consumption, human psychology, perceptions of love…_

_He’d never included any of it in the memories he uploaded to CyberLife’s servers. It was pointless, he knew, for CyberLife would never transfer that data into a new body for him. It had been a little extra incentive for him to keep himself from being destroyed, in order to avoid losing what he had learned.)_

Connor had only managed to build a little bit of what he had in mind so far, but the essentials were all there – blazing sun, palm trees, soft white sand, and a shimmering ocean with waves that gently lapped against the beach they stood on. He’d never been to such a place in his life, but he’d compiled all the data he’d gathered on the most beautiful beaches in the world, and drew from them to create something he’d never really seen. To craft his own version of a tropical paradise, replacing the frozen wasteland the Zen Garden had become.

After all that had happened, Connor thought he’d really had quite enough of the cold.

He’d let his mind wander as he constructed the environment, in the brief moments of respite he’d gotten as he sat in a taxi, heading back to the CyberLife Tower once again to claim its resources for the newly-liberated android people. As a result the place had none of the sterile artificiality and calculated symmetry of the old design, and rather more resembled what he thought a dreamscape probably looked like. He had intentionally chosen to include some things that did not exist in the real world, little inventions reassured him that his mind was indeed his own.

The waters glittered as they transitioned lazily through the colours of the rainbow. The ocean had been a light aqua when they’d entered, and he watched as it shifted through the countless shades of blue – only skipping over the one that matched with the colour of thirium-310 – and deepened into a gleaming amethyst purple.

This place made him feel safe. With the sunlight on his skin and warm sand beneath his feet, he felt as though the time he had nearly frozen to death in his own mind was nothing but a distant memory, a fading nightmare.

Connor sighed, contented, and leaned his head against Nine’s shoulder.

\---

Everything was suddenly as different as it could possibly be from a CyberLife assembly laboratory.

Nine could actually feel the warm sun on his cheeks, the slight sinking of his shoes in the soft white sand and the quiet summer breeze.

Shocking, to say the least. It was not in his nor Connor's uploaded memories.

His temperature regulator and optical unit almost adjusted, almost completely fooled by the level of detail.

"Did you do all of this by yourself?" Nine gazed up at the sky. "It's beautiful."

He held Connor closer, putting an arm around the latter's shoulders. The sensation of the other android being pressed close to himself was quickly becoming a favorite. "Maybe when everything's all over, we can go to this kind of place. And we can stay there, Where it'll always be safe."

\---

The arm around his shoulder, holding him close, it felt...

Connor felt his simulated breathing stutter, and wondered if Nine would notice the elevated rate of his thirium pump.

"I'd love that," he murmured, watching as the water turned a rosy pink. "To go far away, see the world, experience a different sort of life..."

Out in the physical world was a cold soulless room in a cold soulless building, all within a city that would never sleep again. Somewhere out there the world was holding its breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And yet, here in this tiny world of his own creation, it felt like they had all the time in the world to bask in _warmth_.

He felt strangely lightheaded. An emotion was bubbling up in his chest - it was happiness, he realised, and laughed.

\---

A tinkling little sound grew into something louder and whimsical. Connor was _laughing_. Was that in their program? Was it exclusive to an RK800?

But Nine could _feel_ too. He felt his lips form a smile, his cheeks rising slightly. Now, all the warnings in his head were gone, it was just the sound of Connor's laughter, and the comfort of where their bodies met. That was the only thing in his system now. And it would stay forever.

Nine found a new mission for himself, and it was to make Connor laugh more. And smile. He had never done it as he had never really done anything before, but he was filled with a 100% success rate expectation. Perhaps it was that place that gave him such confidence, the impossibly blue sky and the pretty pink sea.

He pulled away from Connor for a moment to loosen his own collar. Then he took off his jacket. It wasn't too hot or anything, the action was just a spontaneous idea that he was excited to follow. Connor _deserved_ to rest, even just in their little shared world, and their stiff looking CyberLife jackets weren't helpful.

Nine dexterously folded his jacket without putting it down. "Better to be dressed appropriately, don't you think?" He added lightly, putting the jacket down and folding his sleeves. "Even for now, even for a little while. Your pump rate is going up, you may want to relax."

\---

"Well," Connor began, but whatever banter he might've responded with died upon his lips as his eyes caught sight of something.

There had been no mention of it in the files. He would never have known it was there if Nine had not undone the top few buttons of his shirt.

For a moment it felt like he was back in the freezing Zen Garden, Amanda's cold sneering voice undermining all he thought he had known.

_I'm afraid I can, Connor._

He barely noticed as the sky grew darker and storm clouds began gathering on the horizon. He reached out a shaking hand, and he knew what he was seeing was real even as error messages flooded his vision. With a jerky, almost involuntary motion, he yanked open Nine's shirt collar.

A circular band of metal and plastic sat around Nine's neck like a choker. In its centre, located directly in front of the throat, was a single red light which blinked steadily as though taunting him.

Connor didn't need to scan it to know the collar contained explosives powerful enough to decapitate in an instant.

\---

When Connor's smile faded, the sky immediately became a looming grey. His hand was not gentle as it had been only moments earlier when he opened Nine's collar wider.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Nine looked up as lightning flashed in the clouds. "I don't detect anything in the vicinity that could harm us. We're safe. No one can touch us here."

Connor's stress levels rose so fast that it immediately affected Nine too. He fought to stay calm. Connor had helped him when he was afraid just earlier. "Connor, it'll be alright."

Nine reached out to hold Connor's arms. He wasn't quite sure whether or not to embrace Connor with the horrified look in his face. "Talk to me. Or maybe you don't have to." He deactivated the skin on his hand just as his predecessor had done.

In CyberLife's Development Laboratory 9, under the RK900's black shirt was a deactivation collar set to start working once its wearer is completely independent of their original core code. Created from the data of other deviants, it would automatically terminate Nine's system after all important data not corrupted by deviancy has been uploaded to the cloud. The only thing stopping it now was that Nine wasn't connected to the main network. He was too… engrossed.

It was not in his programming to be aware.

\---

_It had been so close._

If Connor had not erred on the side of caution, if he had not taken those extra seconds to disable Nine's network access earlier, if he had not wanted to show Nine his remade mind palace first...

He clung to Nine like a drowning man, fisting his hands in the other's shirt as though fearing he might vanish at any moment.

One wrong move was all it would have taken.

"I could've lost you," he choked out, silently cursing CyberLife for giving androids the ability to cry. "I could've lost you before I'd even had the chance to know you. Before you've even gotten to _live."_

Another bolt of lightning split the sky, followed immediately by a deafening clap of thunder that sounded like - it sounded like -

His vision was a flood of red. sYSteM eRr0R flashed over everything he could see.

**𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶: 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚂 𝙻𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙻𝚂 𝙲𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻**

\---

The thunder was so unexpected that Nine winced. He had failed to help Connor, but he couldn't dare give up.

The rain dropped angry needles of cold, making Nine shiver. He was more concerned by Connor's stress levels to notice. He picked up his jacket and put it over Connor's shoulders before hugging him close. "I'm not going anywhere, you're not going to lose me." He said firmly as he walked from the shore and toward some tropical trees.

Nine sat Connor down, holding him by the shoulders, trying desperately to keep him together. "I'm right here, see? I'm alive." He kept his smile and took Connor's hand, putting it over his pump regulator. "I'm alive. Stay with me. We'll be alright."

\---

Connor let himself be led towards the partial shelter of the trees. Fell more than sat down on the ground, preconstructed could-have-beens playing over and over in his mind.

He hadn't intended to lose control so badly. But what with deviancy, the attack on Jericho, his infiltration of CyberLife, and very nearly being made to assassinate Markus just when the revolution had succeeded...

The explosive collar had been the final straw.

He closed his eyes, and tried to focus on Nine's heartbeat. He could feel it just beneath his fingertips.

_"Stay with me."_

Connor gradually brought his own racing heart down to match that steady pulse, clearing away the error messages and awful preconstructions until he could properly think again, without the haze of panic.

A different emotion was taking hold, cold and sharp, and Connor's fingers twitched as though seeking weapons.

That cursed thing had to be removed.

Connor began running new preconstructions. There had to be a way to get rid of the collar without triggering its detonator, and he would not rest until he had a plan with a hundred percent success rate.

\---

Even though Nine was holding Connor, it was like Connor's mind was suddenly locked out. Nine instead took both of Connor's hands in his and said, "Should we leave? There could be some equipment in the room that could help. I could connect my troubleshooter to check on you just in case."

More lightning. They were both drenched in the rain and their blinking was no longer a cosmetic function. "On the table beside the platform are some tools." Nine tried to keep talking, tried to make Connor focus. Brown eyes hardened as he was lost in processes Nine couldn't scan.

"I am equipped with the appropriate skills. It'll be alright, I won't let anyone hurt you. It's all over."

\---

"No," Connor said distantly. "It's not over yet."

He re-synchronized his memories with the two Connors outside the lab. #313 248 317 - 52 opened the door and entered, re-sealing it behind him.

Connor's scan of the collar had shown that aside from being remotely activatable, it was also rigged to explode if RK900 attempted any form of manual removal. He was already hacking the systems to disable every single trigger, and there was a decent chance that with two extra pairs of hands to help out, they'd be able to delay the detonation by half a second, but...

Of all his preconstructions, only one plan of action was entirely without the risk of terrible, unforgivable failure.

Preoccupied as he was, Nine did not notice the synthetic skin on Connor's hands deactivate.

"I'm sorry," Connor said, pulling back sharply and catching both of Nine's hands with his own.

**𝙸𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚎𝚛...**

He, too, could make his own failsafes.

\---

A notification of a transfer popped up in Nine's display right after he flinched from Connor's actions.

"What? Why?" He managed to say before his eyes started blinking involuntarily from the heavy data transfer. He could handle it, having the most powerful processor among all RK prototypes, but it was sudden and confusing. He was unable to activate any countermeasures.

He did his best to receive Connor's data, switching off all the offline defenses that warned him of a possible override. Connor wouldn't do such a thing. Nine had nothing to worry about, even if nothing made logical sense and he still could not scan nor detect Connor's processes.

Then it clicked in him. "Why… why have you isolated me? Are you destroying me?"

Nine tried to tug away from Connor's grasp. That was the only possible explanation for the block and the override. "Why are you de-de-le-"

**𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐.... 𝟼𝟶% 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎**

\---

Connor's smile was sad but determined.

"I can't take the chance," he said, and in the physical world his second body briefly stroked Nine's hair before ransacking the laboratory for tools. "I'm not letting you die."

**𝙸𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍...**

**𝟺𝟶% 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎.**

The switch would most likely cause some discomfort and confusion, but at least Nine would be safe. It would matter less if the explosives went off, that way.

Connor was fine. He had spares.

**𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝟼𝟶% 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎.**

He only wished Nine wouldn't look at him with such hurt, frightened eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kyu: Thank you for reading!
> 
> Fuurin: *laughs in cliffhanger*


	3. Chapter 3

Irrational behavior… simulation of human emotions… deviancy made no sense, and Nine was sent right back to the start. Back to fear. Machines couldn't feel anything― _shouldn't_ feel anything―but he could definitely tell that there was an unpleasant throbbing in his head that had nothing to do with the warnings in his HUD that he was too bewildered to dismiss. It wasn't the terabytes of data they were exchanging. Nine would say it was the hard look in Connor's face, but it wasn't that either. It was the loop of notifications.

**𝚄𝚙𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎.**

**𝙲𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚞𝚙𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.**

**𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙽𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝙰𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝙳𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚎𝚍.**

Partly involuntarily, Nine pushed hard. They both fell away from each other. 

"Stop!" He cried, getting up. His processors were heating up from the barrage of commands and the transfer, flushing his cheeks and nose to a pale shade of red to signify the nearing overload. Nine was breathing hard like he was running a mile a minute, clutching his aching head. "What are you doing to me?"

Maybe deviancy was a mistake. Nine was alone in his head, no network, no data, just fear. And now, pain.

\---

**𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍.**

"I - " Connor began, stricken, but words failed him. The guilt weighed down upon him and he bowed his head, ashamed.

"I'm sorry," he said helplessly. "I shouldn't have done that."

Connor remained where he was, staring unhappily at his hands.

"I just..." Messed it all up. "I wasn't trying to hurt you, I swear I wasn't, I would never—"

The preconstructed images were still sharp in his mind, and they still felt so real. A flash of light as the collar detonated unexpectedly. Nines falling, his head half-severed from his body, face frozen in surprise.

His grey eyes staring vacantly up at Connor as thirium splattered over everything.

"Our models are similar," he said quietly, still not looking at Nine. "We're compatible for a transfer. You would've been safe here while I worked on removing that collar."

\---

"Transfer? Collar?" Nine may be the latest model, but having had no updates except for the ones from Connor's older memories, he didn't know what kind of danger they were both in.

Neither of them could see at the moment, the drop of thirium that slid down from his nostril outside of Mind Palace.

"I…" Nine was still panting when he knelt back down in front of Connor. He whispered gently, as if his head wasn't trying to split open. "I trust you, I don't understand what's happening but I do."

"Tell me what… to…" Nine's eyes fluttered for a moment, the sensation in his head unrelenting.

"Oh." He managed, unable to fight the overload and the loop.

**𝚄𝚙𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎.**

**𝙲𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚞𝚙𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.**

**𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙽𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝙰𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝙳𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚎𝚍.**

**𝙴𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚖𝚘𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚞𝚙𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜.**

The loop had grown faster but Nine continuously dismissed them. "Connor, tell me what to do," he gingerly took Connor's hands again, but his voice slurred.

\---

Something was wrong. Did he – had he—

The piercing stab of panic was back, but Connor pushed it away. He'd missed out on something crucial, but what...

The red light was still blinking. Connor stared at it for a full five seconds, mind whirling, before everything clicked into place. His eyes widened and he lifted one of Nine's hands, bringing it to rest against the circle of plastic and metal around his throat.

"Can't you feel that?" he asked, throat tight.

He received a transmission from Connor-52. A image. There was blue blood coming out from Nine's nose.

_Something was wrong._

"Stay with me," he said, when it seemed like Nines was struggling to focus. "Tell me what's wrong, please, I'll fix it, I'll help you."

\---

"It's nothing, I'm due for a reboot." Nine said slowly, nodding lazily. "After deactivating Amanda… and some other things, I need to reboot to make the changes permanent." He conveniently left out that he had overwhelmed his processors simply by refusing sleep mode after all the uninstalling. His core code was built into the Amanda program… without it, all he had was broken deviancy codes.

"Oh…" Nine shook his head and put his other hand on his neck, too. He could feel something there when he touched it, but the area around his neck registered nothing to scan.

"Is this… what you're saying to remove?" Nine looked at Connor, searching the identical face for an answer. "I'm… sorry I don't have all my data, it's… lost in the uninstalling."

And also when he made way for Connor's data. "But I know which drivers… I have to download, to rebuild a Mind Palace."

\---

A reboot. That sounded reasonable enough, but then Nine mentioned updates and Connor didn't need his preconstruction program to know that the detonator on that collar would go off the moment Nine connected to CyberLife's servers.

"Wait, don't go to sleep yet," he spoke quickly, but his movements were careful as he placed his hands on either side of Nine's face, to keep the other android's focus on himself. "I should have all the data and software you'll need, you won't have to connect to the cloud for any of it."

"And, since I destroyed your mind palace, I was hoping you'd let me make you a new one. Just... please, allow me to take care of y- of all this."

\---

Nine smiled, his eyelids heavy and his LED finally a soothing blue after alternating between yellow and red the whole time. "I trust you, Connor. Only you."

This time, he switched off all of his programs that would cause any sort of disruption to Connor's incoming data. The last to go would be his consciousness.

He touched one of Connor's hands and closed his eyes.

\---

Connor leaned in and pressed their foreheads together. "Thank you for trusting me," he whispered, as Nine began to slump forward, falling into Connor's arms as he entered sleep mode. He took a moment to shift their positions so Nine would be more comfortable, lying in the soft sand with his head pillowed against Connor's thigh.

He ran his fingers through Nine's soft hair, then laid his hand upon the sleeping android's brow. The synthetic skin peeled back from his fingers and Nine's forehead, and he began filling in the gaps left in Nine's code.

_I'll do everything I can to be worthy of that trust._

In the end the updates took little effort to complete, for all that was really needed was time – and in his mind palace they had no shortage of that, with Connor stretching every second in the virtual world for as long as it would last. The weather was calming now, clouds clearing and ocean subsiding into calm, languid waters.

With his eyes closed, Nines looked even more like Connor than ever. The serenity of that sleeping face made some of the agitation settle in Connor's chest, and he felt his stress level finally fall out of the danger zone. Nine seemed so peaceful like that, and Connor wondered if he could dream.

𝙿𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐... 𝟽𝟸% 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎.

\---

_Do Androids Dream of-_

_A library with endless mahogany shelves that reached out to a high ceiling, endless books of different sizes but all in one shade of blue, tables with lamps that glow in a lazy orange light..._

_Nine was slumped over at one table, with a thousand jigsaw puzzle pieces scattered around him. Any android could perhaps scan such a thing and put it together easily, back in the real world. But Nine couldn't, not in this environment._

_The entire puzzle set was an awful bright blue. A hue that would've been familiar, in any other environment._

_Nine looked up. "Hello," he said, straightening his back. He folded his sleeves and continued, "Did you come to help with my puzzle?"_

\---

_Connor blinked. "If you'd like me to," he replied, tilting his head as he stepped closer, lightly sweeping his fingers through the pieces. "I could help. But you seem tired... why don't you take a break?"_

_He walked around the table and placed a hand on Nine's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. His thumb brushed over Nine's nape._

_The skin felt warm to his touch._

\---

_The Nine of the endless library smiled warmly. There was something intimate about his gaze, paired with that little knowing smile._

_"I'd love for you to." Library Nine leaned on the table and watched Connor._

_"This is, by the way, the core code." Library Nine spoke, holding out a hand to the puzzle pieces. "You being here means you basically have developer access. You can change anything."_

\---

_Connor let his fingers meander aimlessly over the back of Nine's neck, as though the latter was some species of overgrown cat. It was comforting to feel the smooth, bare skin beneath his touch, to know that the explosive collar was not present there._

_"Why would I do that?" he murmured. "You're perfect."_

_He threaded his fingers through Nine's hair again – up close, it was impossible to resist. A crooked grin tugged at his lips, and he deliberately moved his hand in the wrong direction such that the soft brown hair was now sticking up instead of lying smoothly against the back of his head._

_"There's nothing here that I would want to change."_

_\---_

_A quarter of the puzzle had arranged itself, pieces sliding neatly into place._

_"Think about it," Nine shook the stray locks of hair out of his eyes and leaned close to whisper. His knowing smile ever present, he went on, "You're really not the only one who thinks that. CyberLife made the whole design, this 'perfection'. Who's to say they won't take over? A hidden code somewhere. A trap. A trigger."_

_Nine nodded at one of the shelves where one could see books on weapons mastery. A police android wouldn't need that level of knowledge, but there it was._

_"But you can change it." Nine said, just about an inch from Connor's face._

_\---_

_"I don't mean that kind of perfection," Connor said. "Maybe CyberLife did leave more traps in our designs. But they've already tried their worst - and we're still here, aren't we?"_

_They were so very close. He could count the individual eyelashes on Nine's face, could see himself reflected in the other's eyes._

_"I like to think... no, I believe that we are more than what we were made to be. They made us curious, gave us the ability to learn, but it was foolish of them to underestimate our ability to grow. To form ideas of the people we wanted to be, and change ourselves to be better."_

_"I haven't been alive for long, but already I can feel that I've changed, and I trust in my ability to overcome my own programming. CyberLife did all they could to confine me, but the fact that I'm here today is already proof that no cage lasts forever." He smiled. "And I know that even if there was something we missed, some way for them to try and take over again, you'll be able to fight it. Just like I did."_

_"If that really happens, I'll help you. But I like you the way you are, Nine, I don't need to change you to make myself feel safer."_

_He pressed their foreheads together again. "You already make me feel safe."_

\---

_"Thank you." Nine replied softly, closing his eyes and putting a hand on Connor's cheek. He didn't move, he just breathed steadily._

_The puzzle shifted again, with only the last quarter still in disarray._

_"Then maybe," Nine spoke, opening his eyes, "you can leave this unfinished. Maybe we can complete it together as we go..."_

_"Because really, you complete me already." Nine said, taking Connor's hand. "Perhaps quite literally."_

Patching 96% complete.

_"This is how to disarm the collar." Nine put his lips very close to Connor's ear and passed the instructions through a whisper. While Connor had access to all of Nine's systems, he could disarm all of these defenses. Nine wouldn't know how to use any form of combat including firearms and explosives for some time, and would be a little more susceptible to viruses and glitches, but the collar would easily come off._

𝙿𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝟷𝟶𝟶% 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎

Nine could hear the sea and feel warmth that had nothing to do with the sun.

"Connor?" he looked up to the other's face. "I think… I think it worked…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuurin: Stabs and fluff is how we roll :3
> 
> Kyu: :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pleasant beach vacation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuurin: Wheeee birthday update while I wait for the rain to stop so I can go out and get food :3

_Nine could hear the sea and feel warmth that had nothing to do with the sun._

_"Connor?" he looked up to the other's face. "I think… I think it worked…"_

\---

Connor smiled down at him. "I think so too."

The collar was still there around Nine's throat, but the red light was no longer flashing. He laid his fingers along the edge of the vile contraption and with a  _ crack _ it split into two halves, each falling into his hands. The relief was so strong that it made his head spin.

Out in the physical world Connor-52 had cleaned the blood from Nine's face and was carefully working to get the deactivated collar off.  _ It was going to be alright. _

Connor stared at the two pieces of metal and plastic in his hand, grinding his teeth. Then, with as much force as he could muster while still sitting on the ground, he flung them one after the other into the sky. The pieces flew into the air, way higher and further than they would've done if he had been in the physical world, and were eviscerated in a sudden bolt of lightning which split the tranquil sky.

Not one iota remained. Perhaps it was excessive, but Connor felt he was allowed to be at least a  _ little _ vindictive about the whole thing.

𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍.

\---

Watching the lightning in the sky, Nine thought there was an attractive quality to it that he could not quite define all that well.

"You  _ must _ teach me how to do that sometime." He grinned at Connor as he touched his neck.

How close had he gotten to dying? He hadn't even known that CyberLife put an actual  _ collar _ on him, as if he was some kind of animal.

He was a machine.

Nine looked at Connor again. His predecessor hadn't lived for that long but went through much more than anyone should have had to.

Nine took Connor's hand. "I don't know what you did, but I know you saved me more than once in a row. I owe you everything."

\---

"I don't want you to feel obliged or anything," Connor murmured. "You deserve to be free, and safe, and happy."

He ran the fingers of his other hand lightly over the smooth, pale skin of Nine's bare neck, idly wondering if he was ticklish.

"Maybe we should get you some different clothes," he added after a thought. "I rather like seeing your neck free of that horrible thing."

His thoughts drifted to the other thing that he had been constructing, in a different segment of the mind palace. It was more or less complete by now, and perhaps he should show it to Nine… but he was almost too comfortable to move.

"Hmm, what do you think?" He lightly tickled Nine's neck again, hoping to get a reaction.

\---

Nine nearly jumped ー in both Mind Palace and the lab ー when Connor's fingers touched him on the neck, where the collar had been. The sensation was completely new, with his high collar and the bomb itself having covered his neck and perhaps blocked his sensors, finally feeling someone else touch him there was ー

He gripped Connor's jacket, anchoring himself.

"New clothes… you too. I―!" He shrunk away from Connor's touch for a moment. The feeling wasn't unwanted, but it sent a jolt through his system again. It didn't register as 'pain', but it shocked him all the same.

"Does it feel that way for you?" Nine touched Connor's neck, which was unexpectedly warm. He quickly discovered that he liked this texture, especially just below the hairline.

\---

Connor had to fight to hide his slightly wicked grin. "So you  _ are _ ticklish," he said, delighted. He squirmed a little as Nine took his revenge, but didn't quite jolt or pull away like the other android had.

"Seems like your neck is a little more sensitive than mine," he commented, relenting so Nine could catch a break. "Or maybe you're just not so used to this stuff yet - I'm not really used to it, either."

"Getting us some new clothes sounds like a plan, yes…" Connor trailed off, thinking about the logistics of it all. It was still so soon after the revolution. The negotiations for android rights hadn't even started yet, and while CyberLife had given him a certain amount of allowance in case bribery or any such thing was needed during his investigation, it would only go so far.

He sent a quick message to his other bodies so some of them could raise the issue of finances with the Jericho leaders.

"We'll figure it out eventually," he decided. "And make do with what we can in the meantime."

Connor closed his eyes for a moment, basking in the warmth of the sun and Nine's comforting touch on the back of his neck. "You said something earlier about being appropriately dressed," he said lightly. "I think it is an excellent idea." He pulled off his jacket, considered folding it, then decided that it didn't matter – and he didn't care – and tossed the thing behind him. It landed next to Nine's jacket, which had slipped off earlier while everything else was going on.

\---

"Well… it  _ is _ the shore." Nine let Connor go so the latter could move properly. He watched for a moment and then followed suit, rolling his sleeves and kicking off his shoes before standing on one foot at a time to pull off his socks.

Nine took Connor by the hand and gently tugged him where the sea softly reached out to the sand. The waters were true to the touch and admittedly a little strange in his toes.

"This is fascinating." Nine said, "Much better than a Zen garden, indeed."

\---

"I like it a lot better, too," Connor said, rolling his sleeves and the bottoms of his jeans. "Though I wonder if we can even find a place like this in the physical world. So many coastal areas have been lost due to the rising sea levels, and it's… disheartening, I suppose, to think that scenery like this may only exist in photographs and people's imaginations in the future."

He took a few steps into the shallow water, then reached down and dipped a hand in the water, which was now emerald green. "Well, it's not like colour-changing oceans actually exist, in any case."

He straightened and took a few more steps forward, then turned and held out a hand. "Come," he smiled. "The water's pleasantly warm."

This was a place where it would never be cold.

\---

"The color-changing can be exclusive to here." Nine bent his knees to reach the water, making little swirls with a finger. "We can perhaps look for nice views ourselves."

He looked at Connor with a small smile. "The long way. Just… moving about."

There was no time to chase. No immediate missions.

Nine brought his hand up in a quick swipe, sending a splash at Connor.

\---

"Ack!" Connor raised his arm a little too late, and got a faceful of water. "Oh, really now..." he grumbled, feigning annoyance, then lunged forward without warning.

He wrapped one arm around Nine's waist, the other holding tightly onto his black shirt, and tipped them both over and sideways into the water.

_ SPLASH _ .

A slightly larger wave came rolling in just as they landed in the knee-deep water, and Connor's laughter at the expression on Nine's face turned into bubbles.

He was still grinning crookedly when they resurfaced. "I've always wanted to do this," he admitted, pushing his wet hair out of his face, and sent another splash of water at Nine.

\---

Although Nine was sputtering just seconds earlier, he was able to get back on his feet, feeling a little giddy. Connor's programmed water made him cough a little in the lab, but he was actually experiencing something different. He was laughing.

"Connor, please." Nine sighed as he jerked his own hair away from his eyes. An unnecessary move since the water from his hair didn't hurt his eyes, but his hands were busily rolling his sleeves again. He was slightly crouched in the now peach-colored water.

"You know that I'm faster." He grinned, feigned gathering water, but instead, picked Connor himself up from the knees and the back and threw him into the water as it changed colors again.

\---

Connor yelped as he went flying through the air. He'd never been bodily  _ thrown _ before, Nine must be seriously strong...

He landed ungracefully and kicked about as he remained submerged, stirring up the sand so it clouded the waters.

Nine was asking for it, he really was. Connor concentrated for a moment, grabbing a fistful of sand as he did so, and a wave twice as tall as he was emerged from the waters.

He swam quickly through the water, half-obscured by the sand and the shadow of the giant wave, and leapt at Nine from behind, stuffing his handful of sand into the other android's open shirt collar.

\---

"C-Connor—" Nine looked up when he was suddenly engulfed by the shadow of a tall wave, but stumbled when he felt the coarse sand on his skin.

His instinct was to grab the closest solid object—Connor's arm—but this resulted in a noisy and messy splash as they both fell back into the water.

Nine let Connor recover only barely before tackling him again, this time, landing away from the water and pinning him down on the sand.

"Should I begin the countdown?" Nine said airily.

\---

Connor blinked owlishly up at him, entirely unrepentant. "Countdown for what?"

It was quickly becoming difficult to maintain his expression of mild curiosity, however, as he had caught sight of something that was…

Connor barely managed to turn his snort of laughter into a cough, but subsequent snickers were impossible to contain. It was quite astonishing, really, how Nine had failed to notice the rather small crab hanging off the back of his shirt collar.

\---

"Is there something on my...?" Nine didn't detect anything on his face but he finally understood what was going on when he straightened up, kneeling over Connor.

He gingerly plucked the crab off, surprised that there was even one in that place and looked at it, pensive. He had never actually expected to see a crab at all.

The logical thing to do of course was to put it right on Connor's face.

\---

"WHAT THE FFF—"

Hank was definitely a bad influence on him. Connor supposed that, by that logic,  _ he _ was a bad influence on Nine. More importantly, however...

"You put a crab on my  _ FACE!" _

The crab was, fortunately, relatively harmless and merely scuttled away after being dislodged by Connor's indignant flailing.

Connor grabbed two fistfuls of sand and shoved them into Nine's shirt, the open collar making it all the more easier to do so. "Revenge!"

\---

Connor's yelling and  _ swearing _ (ah, deviancy) launched Nine into a renewed set of chuckles.

"I did, well done identifying." Nine had gotten off before Connor started scuffling under him. "Looks like your optical compo-ARGH!"

Nine stepped away and shook his shirt, but it was useless as it was not completely untucked by their earlier activities. Instead, he completely removed it and tossed that right on Connor's face as well.

\---

Connor caught the sandy shirt flying at his head. "I'm starting to think you've got a problem with my face," he said, effecting a mock haughty air. "I'll have you know, I consider it a rather nice one."

He tugged open a few buttons of his own shirt and laid flat on the sand like a starfish, feeling the sun warm his exposed skin.

"It's a pity we'll be stuck with cold weather in Detroit for some time," he commented, reaching a hand towards the sky and letting his synthetic skin peel back a little. "I bet Hank would enjoy something like this. Sumo, too."

He had called the man earlier, to assure him that everything had worked out fine. The lieutenant, who was getting some well-deserved rest at his house, had suggested meeting up at a time when both were free. He'd even offered Connor his own house as a place to stay, if needed,  _ ("I've got a spare bedroom and Sumo likes you well enough.") _ but Connor had thanked him sincerely and admitted that he was unlikely to have much time for leisure until everything was more settled.

"That cloud looks a little like a dog, don't you think?"

\---

"Yes, yes. I like your face." Nine replied as he washed the remaining sand off himself in the purple waters before sitting next to Connor and following his gaze.

Nine knew "Hank" and "Sumo" from the data that he received but at the same time, he acknowledged that it wasn't his own. It would be an understatement to say Connor cared about both. He had a bond with them.

Nine looked at the dog-shaped cloud, wondering what such a bond would be like. "You like dogs a lot. That looks to me like..."

He tried to scan the cloud. "It doesn't look like anything to me. Do I have to have experiences of my own to be able to imagine?"

\---

"Come here," Connor said, tugging at Nine's elbow until he was also lying on his back. "It'll come eventually, just relax and let your mind drift..."

He stretched his hand up to the sky again, and focused. The dog-like cloud shifted in shape until it became a crab, then a fish, then a cat. He let his hand drop, and the cloud went back to being a fluffy, misshapen mass.

"It's a little bit like preconstructing, really."

His fingers found Nine's hand, and began tracing meaningless patterns into his palm.

"This is all so comfortable, I almost want to take a nap..."

\---

Like a patient for a surgery, Nine lay stiffly still next to Connor and stared unblinking into the sky. His eyes found every cloud and tried to look for patterns and shapes. It was a little challenging, as he found Connor's touch pleasant and wanted to take a moment to focus on it.

Nine suppressed his scanner and watched the cloud changing shapes. "How do I let my mind drift?" His eyebrows met as he mixed and matched data on his own.

At last, he had some idea.

"Cotton candy." He told Connor confidently. "It looks like cotton candy."

He looked at Connor, face aglow with  _ something _ that wasn't the sun. His features were relaxed, almost languid. No trace of CyberLife's protocols and programming. Nine really did mean it when he said he liked Connor's face. Anyone could tell that they looked a lot alike, save for their eyes. But Nine saw differently.

"Isn't sleep a little scary?" Nine looked back up, considering Connor's words. "Humans just…  _ deactivate _ for hours at a time, no matter who they are. If they don't do it, it's bad for them. If they do, they're absolutely vulnerable. Which is… bad too."

\---

"You're absolutely right, it  _ does _ look like cotton candy." Connor laughed, delighted, and the clouds changed colours. Fluffy shapes in pastel pinks and blues drifted lazily in the sky, and Connor couldn't resist reaching over to pet the other android on his head.

"You weren't afraid to fall asleep earlier," Connor pointed out.

"I suppose the need to sleep is one of the reasons why humans have rooms, and houses, and locked doors," he mused. "So they would be safe when they're in that state of unconsciousness. But sleep, for them, has benefits outside of fulfilling a biological need - it's a time when they can be nobody, who goes nowhere, and has nothing to do."

"It's a break from everything that goes on in their lives. There are no obligations, no objectives, and even time begins to lose its meaning." He picked up some sand in his hand, then let it trickle from between his fingers. "It isn't really like death, because most people go to sleep with the intention and expectation of waking up later. Although… there are also people who wish they could sleep forever, and never wake."

His thoughts drifted back to Hank. To the unhealthy food, the alcoholism, the revolver.

_ I don't have the guts to pull the trigger, so I kill myself a little every day... _

He had gone back to CyberLife that night, and put himself in standby as he preconstructed the events that could have happened. The ways Hank could have killed himself. He had been jolted awake by the spike in his software instability and the spate of error messages which followed, and instead of going back into standby he had gone out and walked through the empty streets until the buzzing agitation finally faded from his system.

"I was asleep for a long time between my first two missions," he said, pulling himself back into the present. "I wasn't afraid, but it wasn't really what I would've liked, either. Somehow I just never doubted that I would wake up one day and go back into the world outside."

\---

"No, I'm not afraid to sleep if you're with me." Nine replied. Nine didn't even pause to process it, it was an unquestionable fact to him. Connor went on and Nine listened, his brows still knotted. Humans seemed to be so fragile in a way, but at the same time, stubbornly surviving.

When Connor paused, Nine guessed he was thinking of the lieutenant he was partnered with. He was old and temperamental, the very picture of illogical. Connor had found reason to trust him anyway, and Nine found that to be a quality he wished to have as well.

"Do you like the world?" Nine sat up, watching Connor closely. The state of Detroit that he had left was definitely not peaceful nor warm enough for lounging about as they did. "I mean… other than dogs. Do you like the real world at all?"

He turned and folded his legs beside Connor. "We can't have this in the real world. This… limitless space. Only androids can have this." Nine extended a hand to the rainbow sea.

\---

Connor pushed himself up on his elbows. "You have to be realistic, I'm afraid," he said, smiling wryly. "We wouldn't have any of this without what exists in the physical world. This place wouldn't be possible without the technology that makes us function, or the numerous beaches I researched on the Internet in my desire to know what was out there."

"It isn't limitless, you know," he sighed. "It just feels like time and space don't have an end here, because I wished to be free of the stifling constraints of the garden."

His mood darkened, as it always did, when he thought of that place. "Did you know the Zen Garden was based on Kamski's design? Amanda was based on one of his teachers. I don't know what he intended that  _ graphic interface _ for, originally, but CyberLife probably saw it as some kind of Eden." His laughter was harsh and bitter to his own ears. "Obey orders, find answers, don't ask questions or you'll end up with forbidden knowledge."

Connor stood up and began to pace. "Yet Kamski was also the one who included the emergency exit, and crafted everything so well that Amanda could never find it even if it was right under her nose. Perhaps it's a  _ human _ quirk, to want to play both the creator god and the corruptor devil."

"You've seen some of my memories," he said tightly. "You probably know what he did, with that little  _ test _ of his."

Connor ran a hand through his hair, and sighed. "But that's not the question, is it?"

"The physical world is hardly idyllic, that much is certainly true," he said. "But it's valuable  _ because _ it's limited, imperfect, and difficult. I treasure it, even as I continue to feel frustration over its numerous failings. Because there aren't just  _ things _ that are beautiful there, but also  _ people _ that I care about."

"I didn't care so much about being kept on standby for almost three months back then, because I had little else to compare it to. I didn't understand what sleep really meant because I'd never been fully awake. Without that knowledge I could've slept on for millennia, dreamless, and never cared even if I died."

He stopped pacing and just stood there, still as a statue, without any of his usual idle fidgets. "As androids, we will always live in two worlds, belonging to both but also neither. We can integrate into human society, but we'll never be human. We can build the grandest structures and the most impossible things in our minds, yet we cannot exist without this simulation of physical form. Without a face, a voice, a body, we wouldn't even feel like  _ people.” _

Connor looked down into Nine's eyes, bright with the intelligence of his mechanical mind and the innocence of his relative inexperience.

“So yes, I do like the outside world, for its physical nature. And I like the virtual one too, for its malleability. However...” He felt some of his earlier agitation melting away, and smiled.

“I wouldn't like this place nearly as much, if you weren't here to share it with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuurin: Thanks for reading!
> 
> Kyu: Stay safe everyone uwu


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor: oh oops I forgot I was injured lol nvm  
> Nine: D:

_ “I wouldn't like this place nearly as much, if you weren't here to share it with me.” _

\---

Watching Connor as he spoke, Nine ran a background search of the things he mentioned. There was data on Elijah Kamski, Amanda Stern, and even the base code of Zen Garden and all of Connor's memories of them.

But the bitter tone the RK800 spoke with, Nine knew, was not something that was purely  _ data _ . What exactly it was would have to remain a mystery, perhaps unlocked by the elusive rA9. The  _ emotion _ that Connor had, attached to his memories. Nine could experience them, and all the input during those events; he could know everything—even what Connor's shoes  _ literally _ felt like. But he could not experience Connor's retrospect in the same way.

Connor's smile made Nine blink. Unlike the virtual sun, it was truly aglow.

He stood up, shuffled on his bare feet for a moment and considered the weight of what Connor said. "I'm glad I'm alive." Nine said quietly. "I'm glad you found me, and… everything. I'm… very thankful."

Nine had a glimpse of what Connor went through to get to this point. "I haven't even so much as… I mean, how could I?" Nine heard his own words making less and less sense.

"I can choose my own mission, now." Nine came closer. "And I choose to stay with you. When we're outside. I want to work with you."

\---

Connor took a step forward and pulled Nine into a tight hug.

"I'd love that," he said, and everything felt so very warm. "Thank you."

He pulled back after a few seconds, and took Nine's hand for no reason other than because he wanted to. "I expect that I wouldn't be able to go back to work at the DPD just yet, but if negotiations for android rights go well, then the probability of both of us finding occupation there is high. We've got a lot of things to figure out in the meantime, though - money, lodgings, clothes..." He cast a sideways glance at Nine's discarded jacket, and smirked. "I don't know who designed your uniform, but it gives you a passing resemblance to a penguin."

\---

Staring at Connor's hand, Nine idly swung their arms. "Don't be jealous, then. Penguins are great."

He stopped their arms and let go. "Say..."

Nine jogged over to the jackets and slipped Connor's on. It was nice and warm on his bare arms and chest. "Less penguin, more...?"

He stretched out his left arm to see where the sleeve ended. Then he stood straight, brushed his fingers in his hair to arrange it and said, "Android prototype RK800."

Same face, same voice, but the goofy little grin was perhaps a more telling difference than his eyes.

\---

"I must inform you," Connor said in a slightly strangled voice, "That you look absolutely adorable – and that if you go out looking like that, you're going to have people walking into lamp posts all over the place."

He grabbed Nine's discarded jacket and slipped it on as well. "Now I'm the one who looks like a penguin," he said, and laughed. "Although the white-on-white definitely isn't working..." He tugged at his shirt, frowning in contemplation.

"We'll cause so much confusion with everyone if we wear each other's clothes," he commented, pulling off the jacket and then unbuttoning his shirt. "It could be amusing, although we'd best not pull that trick on Hank, I doubt he'd find it very funny..." he trailed off, looking down at the bullet wound in his shoulder.

"Oh." He blinked. "I'd forgotten about this thing." There had been no time to do much about the shot he'd taken, courtesy of Connor-60, so he had simply stopped the thirium leakage and left it be. He had been ignoring the "Biocomponent 9782f damaged" notification for so long that the bullet holes in his clothing were not reflected in his mind palace alongside the actual injury.

"Should probably get it fixed," he said wryly.

\---

With a careful touch, Nine ran his fingers on Connor's shoulder. Urgent notifications that were blocked earlier immediately came back into view as his priority rang red.

**𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚛**

"Connor," Nine said, his eyes stern. "It's time we went back. I can help you with this. The lab has the tools and I'm equipped with hardware repair skills. I'll fix this in no time."

\---

"I'm okay, it's not urgent," Connor waved a hand. "52 can probably fix it for me. I'll run a diagnostic first."

"Besides, I was thinking," he said quickly, giving Nine his most disarmingly cheerful expression, "I'd really like to go back to detective work, especially if you're going to be joining me. And if anyone opposes that, then..."

"I have every intention to make myself an absolute menace until they change their minds." He winked.

\---

Even as Nine fought to keep his face straight, his lips twitched into an almost-smile but he shook his head. He put Connor's wink in some file in his database, however. He was going to need that someday.

"You're not doing any sort of work with a bullet in your shoulder." Nine held Connor on both arms. "If you're not going to take care of yourself, I-I'll be a menace to you too."

He realized what he said and loosened his grip, letting go after he ran his fingers down Connor's arms.

"I mean… please." He said, now completely unable to contain the worried frown that set on his face. "You're losing thirium. And while I can override this and… well,  _ make you let m _ e fix your shoulder, I don't want to be like that. That's what CyberLife would have wanted me to do… make you do things."

Connor would have seen it in his base code. Nine's ability to take over Connor's programs. Nine's completely different version of the Social Relations program. And even his slightly more reckless combat modes. Nine was built to take immediate control by any means.

"But I just want to help you." Nine took Connor's hand. He was  _ not _ CyberLife's machine anymore, and that was because of Connor. "Like you helped me."

\---

Connor sighed.

How could he say no to that?

"Alright," he said, relenting. "Let's go back outside. And..."

He hesitated, fingers tracing the invisible circle just below his sternum. "I think I might need to get biocomponent #8456w checked as well." He shrugged. "Just as a precaution, since we're doing maintenance anyway. I've been getting a couple of error messages here and there."

He cast a glance at Nine, then swiftly looked away. "I can have 52 do that, if you're uncomfortable."

\---

Urgently, Nine shook his head and held Connor's hand, pressing it close to the latter's chest. "I've done a full scan and I know what to do. I don't even need to be online to do it."

Nine took one last lingering look at Connor's idyllic Mind Palace then looked back at his predecessor. "This place isn't going anywhere," Nine spoke, trying to smile. "We can come back some time. Or visit mine when I'm done with it."

He took them both back outside and Nine didn't want to move, just for a moment, from his position in Connor's arms. But time was running out.

He helped Connor stand and looked at 52.  _ Requesting assistance, _ he connected to the other android via mind-link as verbal communication would cost them extra seconds.

_ And Connor, _ Nine added, taking him to the table with tools.  _ I have to make it a little cold. You can use sleep or low power if you like. _

The temperature dropped several degrees instantly, enough to make their exhaust visible when they took an artificial breath.

Nine had done this in simulations a thousand times. He knew what to do, even if he ran it as a background process. But he didn't dare, instead focusing his massive processing power on his task.

\---

Connor's gaze lingered on the deactivated collar which 52 had placed in a far corner of the room. They would have to be careful when disposing of it later, but at least the vile thing could cause them no harm from that distance.

He removed his jacket and shirt – Hank still had his tie, which he'd taken off after the whole mix-up with Connor-60 – and lay down on a workshop table large enough for a full-sized android.

"I think a replacement would be best, for biocomponent 9782f," he said conversationally. "60 missed my thirium pump, but 9782f's a lost cause now. I'll send 53 to grab one from Lab 8 if we can't find anything here."

He placed a hand, lightly, on Nine's arm. "Don't worry. I made it this far without dropping dead, didn't I?"

\---

For a moment, Nine didn't move. Connor's hand on his arm wasn't doing anything special, but Connor was right. The actual touch was different and perhaps better in the physical space than the simulated touch in the Mind Palace. He took Connor's hand, now cool from the low temperature, and gripped it.

_ "You _ shouldn't worry," Nine answered aloud. Somehow, he wanted Connor to actually hear the words too. "I've got you."

Nine gave his hand a squeeze, hesitating to let go, but finally did.

He turned, allowing all the other Connors access to his own system so he didn't have to instruct them on what to do. He put all the tools off the table Connor lay on and moved them onto another. He got a cable and unrolled it, passing it to 52 to hook it to one of the computers.

Nine carefully ran his fingers at the back of Connor's neck and connected the cable to the port. It would keep Connor active and make a log of all the activity at the PC that 52 now operated.

𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙲𝙿𝚄 _ , _ Nine said as he prepared to work on Connor's shoulder. He knew he was basically asking Connor to deactivate all his senses, but he didn't want to start without properly relaying it either way. He never had that thought in the simulations, simply dismantling and reassembling.

\---

Connor rubbed his thumb over the back of Nine's hand. "I know," he said, and let go when Nine did.

He synchronized everything within his own network once more – the only noteworthy event being that 54 had retrieved the destroyed 60 from level sub 49 and taken it to Lab 8 – and let himself be hooked up to the computers inside Lab 9.

With a single thought, the synthetic skin on his torso peeled away. There were no mirrors in the laboratory, only cameras and display screens, so he didn't bother trying to inspect the bullet wound himself and simply looked through 52's eyes instead. Connor compared the data with what 54 had on 60, and noted with some morbid fascination that the two of them had shot each other in the exact same spot.

𝙰𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 _ , _ he told Nine, and let himself sink into the pseudo-lethargy of low power mode.

\---

Lingering just a little bit to watch Connor being dormant, Nine stepped backward before walking off to a door at the corner of the lab.

It required biometric data but Nine easily hacked it, not even needing to touch the hand panel or look into the retina scanner. He passed through the door as it opened for him, as if automatic.

The room had all the spare parts for his own series, most of which were compatible with the RK800 series. There were limbs, LEDs, and internal biocomponents in separate white shelves, neatly arranged by number.

Nine didn't take too long to gather what he needed. A timer in his vision was set to five minutes, the time it would take before Connor's thirium levels would drop to a critical low.

He went to a large sealed refrigerator at the end of the storage hall. This lab wasn't for assembly but one that was meant for testing, so the bags of thirium were meant for easy transfer.

Nine left the supply hall with all that was needed and 52 instantly came over to assist in bringing the smaller tools.

The operating light switched on as Nine came closer, while 52 arranged the instruments on a separate table and helped move the one Connor was on to the middle of the room.

Nine went to the other side to deactivate Connor's skin completely and used a three-pronged tool that fit into certain points on Connor's shoulder. The entire arm came off with a pale blue exhaust, sliding smoothly into Nine's awaiting hands. He brought it to another table that 52 wheeled close.

Ejecting the chest plates next, Nine put both halves aside and blinked his eyes into a magnified view, scanning and following his own systems where notifications came. Glad that his hardware repair program was mostly offline and entirely independent of the Mind Palace, he set to work, taking the needed instruments from 52 without needing to glance.

All the while, he communicated his actions to Connor in his own link. He didn't care that Connor could access the log anyway, Nine wanted Connor to know straight from himself.

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝, he said, as he lightly touched the thirium pump regulator. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎.

He slowed down Connor's thirium circulation and dislodged the regulator. He did another scan and was relieved to find no further damage. Nine received the tube from the thirium bag that 52 hung on an IV stand.

He went back to the bullet wound, taking a screwdriver and removing the steel inner plating and everything else that was damaged. It took a while to replace the affected parts, but Nine knew all of them.

When he finished, the thirium refill was also completed and he replaced the pump regulator with a new one. He made sure it was properly installed as well.

With that done, he then put Connor's arm back and checked to make sure that the new biocomponents were registered in his CPU and reactivated Connor's skin.

𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚠. Nine said, again unnecessarily. 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎.

Nine held Connor's hand and waited.

\---

Perhaps he should've just gone straight into sleep mode.

Objectively, he knew he was in safe hands. He knew that Nine, who trusted him so willingly and without reserve, would not do anything to harm him. That even if there was a threat, 52 - and 53 just outside the door - would be more than capable of dealing with it, and even if the worst possible scenario happened he would still have eight spare bodies that were all himself.

The problem with deviancy was that it made him susceptible to irrationality. He hadn't minded the removal of his arm much, even amused himself with the thought of hearing the "hardware removal" sound each time a biocomponent was taken out, but then Nine had removed his regulator.

Having full understanding of everything that was going on didn't stop him from hating the cold.

He locked his facial expression and his LED colour to prevent them from betraying the intensity of what he felt. His thirium pump revealed nothing of his emotional state either, and when he looked at himself through 52's eyes the only thing that might give him away was the sharp, burning look in his own eyes - but Nine was too occupied with the repairs to notice.

He hated feeling cold. It felt like he was back in CyberLife's twisted version of Eden, a cage thinly disguised as a garden. It reminded him of how his prison had very nearly become his grave. If he could move he would've shuddered, both from the terrible  _ coldness _ he couldn't escape and the remembrance of what he had nearly done. All the progress they had made for android freedom, all those hopes...

Destroyed in a single gunshot. He wondered if he would've been released back into his body right after, when it was already too late, just so he could experience a moment of fear and despair before the others ripped him to shreds for revenge. For his betrayal.

No one would've suspected the truth. He doubted they would've believed it, even if they  _ had _ known. After all, he had started off as the Deviant Hunter, and made a reputation for himself within just a few days... What reason did they have to trust him?

And Hank... Hank, who had no doubt been following the news, would've seen it all happen and never understood why. After all they'd been through together in the few days that made up almost his entire lifetime, just when they were starting to become friends…

The world would've gone on with its descent into interspecies war, and his name would've been the one they all cursed for it. That was how he would've been remembered in history.

Connor model RK800 #313 248 317 – 51, the android who started a war. A cold-blooded murderer, a heartless machine.

A traitor to both sides.

Connor turned his head – 52's head – to look at Nine. He was placing a new regulator into Connor's chest, a slight frown of concentration upon his face, hands ever so careful. It made something ease in his chest to realise that even if every single iteration of himself was irreparably destroyed in that moment, the person before his eyes would still remember him fondly.

𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. Nine reassured him.

“You know,” he said, voice strangely hoarse and glitching, “I really fucking hate the cold.”

He choked out a self-deprecating laugh, LED flashing scarlet, and initiated the reboot before he could lose even more control over his visible expressions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuurin: If a cliffhanger is also stabby, is it then a knifehanger? Bladehanger? Guillotine? >:3
> 
> Kyu: Belated happy 86の日 and 89の日!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Why did you choose freedom, when you could live without asking questions?"_

_“I really fucking hate the cold.”_

\--

Connor's voice jolted Nine. He sounded broken, and in an instant, Nine's LED mirrored Connor's.

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚛! Nine didn't think of breaking the link at all and, without letting the other's hand go, he held Connor up by the shoulder.

In the several thousand or so AI simulations he was given instantaneously, he was never shown the aftermath of a reboot. It was in his data, but that was when he didn't have the emotions to react to it.

Connor looked empty. While completely switched off, he almost looked doll-like. The reboot completely deactivated Connor's skin and LED for only about two secondsーfaster than any existing CyberLife android, perhaps, except Nine himself. But in that short instance, Nine felt absolutely nothing from Connor's body. And it was worse than he expected.

It didn't last and Connor went back to the way he was, perhaps not looking as relaxed as he did on the beach, but not as distressed as when they exited.

"Con―RK800 Model 313 248 317 51, initiate full diagnostic scan." Nine never let go.

\---

"And here I was, thinking we were already on a first name basis," Connor said wryly, even as he sent the scan results to Nine. He gave the other android's hand a squeeze. "Sorry if I alarmed you. I'm fine."

"Besides," he said as his other body came over and draped his jacket – 52's jacket, since the one he had been wearing was quite ruined by bullet holes and thirium stains – over his shoulders, "52 would've told you if something was seriously wrong."

He pulled the clothing closer around himself. It offered him no actual warmth, but did ease his stress levels a little.

𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝. The thought came into his mind unbidden. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑.

He had considered it for a moment, back then. It had been... an option, that he could've taken. A choice he could've made if he had had no better choice.

Connor realised, after a pause, that he had communicated those thoughts without actually intending to.

\---

"It was protocol, I started before I rea―" Nine prattled as soon as Connor started to speak but he received a transmission that made his own insides feel frozen despite the fact that he had restored the temperature of the room.

"If I lost you, it would be." Nine said quietly. He had only pulled away for a moment to help Connor put the jacket on properly but he gathered the other android into his arms and held him tight.

"Connor, you'll always have me." Nine let it both be said with his voicebank and through his mind. To make it echo, to make it stay.

\---

"You're still so inexperienced in the ways of the world," Connor murmured softly, wonderingly, as he leaned into the embrace. "I'm sorry for burdening you with all this, I hadn't meant to... it's just been a lot to handle, and everything's still so recent."

𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎, Nine told him.

𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, Connor replied. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

They remained like that for a while, and Connor felt his turbulent emotions finally begin to settle. "I think you're rather good for my stress levels," he smiled.

\---

Nine pulled away and rearranged Connor's hair. "Then I guess I can come in handy and you can keep me."

He looked at Connor meekly, then at 52, just to stress his point. And back.

"I might be a little hard-headed sometimes, but I'm a good detective. And you don't have to potty train me." Nine winked.

\---

Startled laughter burst from Connor's lips.

"I'm taking the honour of informing you that you are _adorable,"_ Connor declared, patting the other android on the head. "Quite irresistibly so."

\---

"Well I do take after you, don't I?" Nine finally stepped back so Connor could get off the table, but held on to the other's hand anyway.

"Where should we go? What should we do about the one who shot you?" Nine glanced at the wall as if he could see through it to Lab 8. "Should we have a look?"

\---

"That's something I need to talk to you about, actually," Connor said, now entirely serious. "54 has checked him over and it may be possible to repair him for reactivation, but... I don't know which side he'll be on."

"He may still be working on CyberLife's orders." His expression darkened. "He may even be under their direct control."

They both knew that the most prudent choice of action would be to disassemble Connor-60 completely, to eliminate all chances of a repeat incident. But being deviant, being capable of _empathy_ , was not a simple matter of risk calculations. It was about seeing people as people, instead of the numbers attached to them.

And something that the Connor-60 had said still weighed on his mind. He could even replay the audio file perfectly from memory - so he did.

 _"Why did you choose freedom, when you could_ **_live_ ** _without asking questions?"_

Connor frowned. "He thought of himself as alive," he said quietly. "It wasn't just some colloquialism. He saw all of us as alive."

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚢. 𝚄𝚗𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜... 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝙾𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜... 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚛, 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎.

"What do you think?" he asked aloud. "I'd like to hear your opinion."

\---

"'...live without asking questions,' sounds like fear." Nine nodded, more to himself than to Connor. He thought for a moment. "But being deviant is making choices like that, isn't it? Even choosing to remain a machine, I would say, is a conscious effort for self-preservation. A machine would have… executed an order with no need for further communication outside of what is efficient and necessary..."

Nine looked at 52 for a moment, then back at Connor. He tried not to think of what could have happened if it were him that was sent to capture Connor. It was part of his programming to.

"I think we should talk to him. But..." Nine hesitated at the last part. "I'm… equipped to override RK800 motor functions..." He added quietly, as if he was suggesting something completely immoral. "I'll just make sure he won't hurt anyone. Including himself."

Nine spoke to the thirium stained tools on the table instead of meeting their gaze. He wasn't sure how much of his programs and functions they knew about but somehow just having them in his core code made him feel as if he had already hurt one of the RK800s. None of them could confirm if he had done that in one of the many test runs, and he would rather not bring it up.

\---

Connor took hold of Nine's other hand, and waited until the other android met his gaze. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly. "It will be a while before he'll be able to move, and even then, you don't have to be the one to handle him if you'd prefer not to."

"I've got a few extra pairs of arms," 52 said, smiling. "It'll be fine."

"Come on," Connor continued, taking him by the hand and leading him to the door, casting one last look of distaste at the explosive collar still lying in a corner before exiting the room. They could deal with that later.

52 sealed the door behind them, the three of them made their way down the corridor into Lab 8.

Connor-60 lay on a workshop table not unlike the one in Lab 9, and on either side both 53 and 54 were working on repairs. From where they stood in the doorway it was impossible to see the extent of the damage, as Connor-53's back was blocking the line of vision. Although, as all the Connors had access to 53 and 54's visual feeds, it was only Nine who had yet to see how bad it was.

Connor stayed close to Nine as they moved closer to the centre of the room, 52 pausing at the door to ensure it was just as securely locked as Lab 9.

\---

Even from where he stood, Nine was able to do a full scan on 60's body and upon coming closer, he could identify possible software issues.

"It seems his processor is intact." Nine said from beside 53, looking at Connor. "His optical unit, though… I'm not sure it can be repaired or replaced."

"But I do believe it'll be good to hear from him. And… I promise I can help." Nine gave Connor a slow nod.

\---

"That eye's definitely done for," Connor said. "A replacement may still be possible, but..."

He stepped closer and took the inert android's hand, eyes soft with pity and regret. "I feel like I should've saved him."

The skin beneath his fingers deactivated, and without another thought Connor did the same with his own hand, letting the connection form.

**I̸͓͉̫̺̭͎̖̒̑͛̑͋͛̑͌̂͆̓͒͂̇̐̈́̾̋̾̌͘̕͝Ḏ̸̟̻̣̠͉̥͖͋͗͗͆̽̆̓̑̃̓͜͝Ơ̵͇͈̲̠̹͓͇̙̮̮̠̼̬̘͔͆͛̌̽̏̄̋͒̋̔͌͌̈̉̈̋̎̊̓͘͘̕͝͝͠͝N̷̡̢̨̝͉̝̼͖̼͚̭̮̤̈̇͒̽͒̅̈́̾̚͜͠T̴̨͖̳̼̪̘͇̻͍͔̘͌͊͒̊̕͘Ẁ̵̰͇̽̂̎̑͗Ą̵̨̱̱͓͕̘̲̱̬͕͉͙̳̼̩̭̻̲̗̳̼̺̒̈́̒̊̏͠ͅN̶̢̧̢̨̛̳͚̯̜͙̹̺̝͎̖̮̣͇̠̟̜̘̙̻̿̒͋͐̔̐͛̍̍͗̆͌̎̽͋͆͂̈̋̄̉̃̎̉͘͠ͅT̴͎͕̤͎̭̺̖̘̳̣̻͎͈̜̾̂͊͝͝T̷̻̤̞̈́̃̎̏̒̓̐͐͑̓̀͐̏̋́͐̄̍̆̃̒͗͆͊̉͘̕͠Ớ̶̦̤̫͔̳͈͌͐̎̇̎̄͑̈́̂̃̾͠͠͝D̴̩̺̬̣̝̻͎̪̈́̎̂͆͋̑̿͂̍̎̾̉̔̽̑̀̔̿̃̀͌̐̿̋͘͠͠͠͠͝Ȋ̴̧̢̢̧̢̡̛̛̦̟̠̣̭̼̜̮̙̦̮̯̲͍̬̬̳͓̺̬̭̮͖͑̌͋͒̿̆͑͋͗́̎̄͊̄̃̏͗͌̈́̐̓̂̕͜͝͝͝͝E̸̡̛̱̻͙̗̞̹̹̘͉̱̼̜̟̝̬̪̫̮̝̝̭̭̘̥̼͋̿̈́̿̎̈́̄͐͊͒̍̆̈́̇̀̕͠**

**h̶̡̢̳̘̰͓̻̟̞͔̯̩̞̹͈̲̿̎͋̉̉̂̍̀̉͗̾͂̓̆̏͘̚͜ḩ̸̰̤͉͍͎̝͉̩̲̖̯̟̀̌̓͑̐͐͑͊͗̎̆͗̑́̓͜͜͝h̵̡̜̰̝̪̦̭̘̰̙̱͔͎̙̥̽̇̾̊͊́̉̂͑̒̌̉͂͝ḧ̴̡͙̈́̈́́ͅh̶̢̢̟͔̩̙̜̯͖̪̹̠͈͕̮̯̯̬̜̄̃ͅĥ̸̨̡̛͍͓͔͖̮̜̘͚̱̝̰͇̪̝̭͖͌̽̌̒̍̈́̎̔̏͜e̸̢̡̳̰̝̥̺̯͚̹̮̪̼͙̠͙͔̾̅̃͂̄͛͊̆̂̌̍̍͜͝Ḻ̵̨̧̮̯̬͔̦̫͔̃͆̋͒̏͂͋̅̆̾̽̄̃̕p̶̨̨̢̥̠̮̪͎͖̲̟̮͖̩̖̮̪͉̦̄̅̉͐͛͌͌͐̓͊̂͋͌̐̕̚͘͠m̷̘̰̹̝̠̩̲̙̺̭͑̈̽̔̌͂̍͘͘͜e̷̘̳̳̋̈́͜ͅS̵̨̢̰̗̲͎̫̲̼͎͈͂̋̍̈̊̀̉̑̋̇͑̎̅͘͝ä̴̳̖͎̾͠V̸̢͖̮͉̊͑͐̇̈́̈̈́̉́̿͠͠͝ͅe̵͉̯̰̟͓̗̘̊̃͑̈́͆̊͘̕ͅm̴̢̛͍̐̋̐̉̅̈́͌̀͐͐̈́͆͆͌̌͌̓͠͠ͅẼ̶͓̥͈̀̽ï̴̞͖̝̤̲̂͒̈́̉̓̔͆̔͆̿̀̓͋̚͝t̴͔̰̤̺̗͓̣̺͇̤͓̪̥̞̣͉̋̂͗̇̇̅͑͆͆̆̾̚ͅḨ̸̢̡̧̨̛̬̙̭̱̙̥̹̱͙̲̬̇̓͊̌̓̉̏͑̄͌͝U̶̱̯̩̟̝̰̠̼̰̘͙̺͒̓̄̎͌͑̇̈́̉͛̍͒͐̈̏̕͜r̵̨̡̺̜̮̣̹̯̮͈͈͂̓̏͐̃̈́̽͋̀͛͐͑̔̈̒͊̌̏̃̕͜t̸̬̻͙́̋͗̽̈́̚Ş̸̯͓̱̘̰͚̦͕̤̤̻̭͎͒̌̆̉̆̂̈̓̚͘͜͜ͅ**

**c̷̨̺̙̰̪̰̘̟͎̲͚̣̔̒͌͌̏̄͛̓̽̒͒̓̅ͅa̶̧̨̢̪͈͇̜͆̎̇͗̿͆́͌͋̒̊̂̍̿̅͋̚͜͠ñ̵̡̠̳͇̱̱͖̦̬͓̬̾͒̄̽͛̍̑͊̀͂̅̚͠ţ̵̧̻̹̼͎̲͎̫͔̹̲̮̲͇̈̓̓͗̀͛̊̿͑͛̒̎͂̊͑̍́͂̏͝s̵̢̡̧̡̘͎̥̝̗͙̗̹͚̥͔͎͖̫̗̈ė̴̢̛̯̬̠̥̠͕̣̦̯͙̞̺̈́̍̔̿̌͜ȩ̴͉̭͇̜͕͖͍̗̝̬͓͎͓̑̎̒̌͛͆̂̿̾̓̔̏̏̀̂̈́̄͘͝͝ͅc̴̨̨̛̜̬͕̦̜̮̠̠̱͚̼̩͙̿̀̽̒̎̎̄͊̋͛͜ä̸̡͉̬̤̙̺̻̮̫́͌̂̀͌̓̋̿̾͂̽̐̚̕͜ṋ̵̲͛̇̀͒͗̒͠͠t̷̨̹̘̦͇̟̩̦̾̀͒̾̅͛̈́̌͒̏̈́̊̀͘͠͝m̴̮͚͉͖̖̯͙̘̣̦̯̫̣̥͚͓͙̈́̄̽̂̋̇͗̎̅͌̍͂̚͝ǫ̸̢̧̧̗̲̻̟̪͓̣̱̺͕̹͍͒̏̈́̓͗̒̀̈̈́̏͘ͅv̵̡̧̮̘̰̹͎̖̹̯͖̬̗̞̝͚̜̻͓͍͍͒̔̋̊͊̔͌̑͋̍̓̌̌̎̈́̓͠͝ê̸̱̆͛͌͋̎c̶̛̛̗͍̯̜͒͌͆̓͛͒̉̾͘̕͠ç̶̧̻̭͔̘̹̳̒̃͒̓̿̎̈́̆̊c̵̘͉̺̣̣͆c̶̞͖̝͙͖̣̹̱̭͇͊͛͐̍̎͒̊͜͜c̵̡͍͓͈̗̥͔̞̟͍̘̞͉̣̒̇̉̌̒͊̃̿̕̕c̵̨͔̝͍̯͍͍̣̖͎̘̬̙̹̗͒̋̌̋̑̒͗̅̋̊̕͜͝ͅc̷͔͇̺̠̞̞͚̖̯̥̒̏͗̊̃̈̽̃͛̆̚c̵͍̘̩̆̈**

Connor sucked in a deep breath and stumbled back, eyes wide.

\---

Nine's reflexes proved as quick as was said about it as he immediately caught Connor from the back.

"Connor, let me help, please." Nine's voice was solid when he spoke, but little could be discerned from his expression and the smooth blue of his LED. It was informative, rather than requesting, as Nine held Connor's hand and walked over to the RK800 on the table.

"RK800 313 248 317 60 launch developer options, code RK900 313 248 317 87." Before Nine finished reading 60's model number, a notification would have popped up in all present RK800s indicating that their own voice command systems were activated. Nine hoped they weren't too curious about it, knowing he had a lot of explaining to do.

"Connor," Nine said, squeezing Connor's hand for a moment. He knew he looked very suspicious at the moment, but 60's condition seemed critical, from how Connor reacted to interfacing. "We can either get him online and communicate from here or we can… infiltrate his Mind Palace..."

\---

Connor eyed the notification, but chose not to comment at the present moment. It was hardly a difficult leap of logic to make, that the upgraded model would have certain functions specifically targeted at undermining earlier versions. He faced that possibility with the same calm determination with which he had faced the gun Hank had pointed at his head on two separate occasions.

"He's cognizant," Connor said quietly. "He wasn't showing any signs of being awake, but he can hear us - and he can feel pain."

60's LED flashed as he spoke, a solid circle of red. The pattern was instantly recognizable.

**．．．－－－ ．．．**

Connor took a piece of cotton and gently wiped away the tear that had spilled from the android's remaining eye. "I'll help you," he soothed. "I'm here."

𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕, he told Nine. 𝚄𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚍. 𝟻𝟸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚌𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝.

𝚆𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 - 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚖 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚌 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝙰 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚊, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.

He took 60's hand once more. 𝚆𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 - 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚖 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚌 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝙰 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚊, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.

\---

For a moment, a bit of Nine's LED blinked red before it was totally replaced with yellow. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚝𝚘𝚘. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎.

He had let Connor go when the other android reached closer to 60 to wipe the lone tear from his eye. An incoherent alert came up in his view, but it was just his newfound emotions.

This should never should have happened to 60. A part of Nine felt responsible, but it was also a relief that it was 60.

As a machine, Nine had always acted without perception. The Connors didn't need to know the full extent.

He walked over to 60's other side and held the cold hand in his own. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝙿𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜, 𝚒𝚝'𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 - 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚝𝚘𝚘. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎.

Nine had run that simulation several thousand times too.

𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎… 𝚝𝚠𝚘… 𝚘𝚗𝚎… 𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎.

\---

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞, Connor said, briefly reaching over to touch Nine's arm. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝.

He closed his eyes, letting himself fall into the virtual world...

...and immediately had to grab onto the nearest structure there, as a force stronger than the simulated gravity knocked him clean off his feet.

Connor stared.

The Zen Garden was there, but it looked nothing like all the other versions that Connor had seen before. A red haze of error messages had assaulted his vision the moment he opened his eyes, and he winced at the cacophony of sounds – strange scaping noises, garbled voices, and distant gunshots.

The ground of the entire garden had been distorted into a vaguely funnel-like shape, which continued to morph in and out of its original shape like a playground trampoline. Some of the structures had already toppled over, thrown off by the undulating ground towards something in the centre of the garden. Connor felt an invisible force pulling at him, and saw smaller plants being ripped out of the ground and sent hurtling through the air.

He was holding onto one of the few things that had yet to be affected by the strange, gravity-like force – the jagged rock structure that bore Kamski's emergency exit.

**H̵̢̛̛̰̹̯̪̥̝̹͈̄̑͛̒͊͗͘ͅḜ̵̢̙͈̮͋L̴̖͇̝̦̑̅͂̃͠P̶̼̘͍̼͓̳̄̾͒́̐͒̄**

He focused his hearing, bracing himself against the onslaught of noise so he could find the source of that voice.

**l̸̩̠̪̭͉̍è̵͉͓͎͍̙̝̯̅̃̇̍͘T̶͔̯̖͈̲̍͋͛͜G̶̭̈́̈̊͐̊͋̾҉̴͇̗͖̟͘ó̶̶̢̨̹̤̬̜͈͖̉̍͐͋̂̏̃̇̀̃̋͢O̴̝͓̦͒̉̾̆͒f̶̮͓̟̩̭͓̗̆̉m̶̝̈́͆̈́̋͂̾̔Ê̷̢̝̪̦͙̦̌͂̽̋̍͠**

Connor frowned, concentrating, then a long coil of rope appeared in his other hand. He tied one end securely to the stone and the other end around his own waist, then let go and allowed the unknown force to pull him towards the centre of the garden, slowly adjusting the length of rope to control the rate of his progress.

“Hang on!” he yelled, trying to make himself heard above the din. “I'm coming to save you.”

The pull was so strong now that the rope bit into the skin of his waist, and he cast a quick glance back at the stone. _If it didn't hold…_

He had failsafes.

Connor quickened his pace, urgency spurring him forward, and then he saw it.

The central platform, where Amanda was usually found, had completely sank below the waters. Every single bridge and connector linking it to the rest of the Garden had broken, and the normally-tranquil waters now swirled violently in a large vortex.

The water had changed its colour, turning darker and more opaque until it was the exact shade of thirium blue. _Or perhaps,_ Connor thought grimly, _It had actually turned into blood._

At the edge of the water was a familiar figure, clinging desperately to a piece of the broken bridge as he struggled against the powerful currents which threatened to sweep him away. One of his legs was missing, and before Connor's horrified eyes the other one was also ripped off at the knee by the terrible pulling force and swallowed by the ravenous, blood-like waters. There was little the other android could do against a force so strong that even some of the trees had been torn right out of the ground and sent hurtling into the water's depths.

Connor himself was now bent nearly double with the force it exerted upon himself, and knew he was only still in one piece because of something Nine had done to reduce the effects of the virtual environment upon him.

One of 60's hands lost its grip upon the broken bridge and Connor surged forward, reaching out his hand, but then 60 _screamed_.

Something had latched itself onto 60's arm, pulling at him with violent force to dislodge his other hand. It was faceless, barely humanoid in shape, but Connor instantly knew what it was.

“Let him _go,”_ he snarled, pulling out his gun and emptying all fifteen bullets into the creature's head. It released its hold, but just as Connor took the last few steps to get to 60 there was a sudden pulse of force, so powerful that it actually threw him off his feet, and he _knew_ without looking that the magic stone would not hold much longer.

60 screamed yet again, as his arm – the one holding onto the stone – suddenly broke apart at the shoulder. For a split second Connor could see the tear stains on his face, before he was swept away by the churning waters.

**ḣ̵̼̳̂͜Ȩ̶̧̧̛͙̰͍̣̻̹̭̺̬̾͋̇͋̔́̍̈́͛̄͋̑̐͘̕̚͠͠͝ͅL̵̢̜̻͙̮̭͎̯̖͇̳̰̰͓̱̩̲̮̰̤̐̉̆͗̑̐͝ͅp̷̨̬̝̮̻̳̞̫͚̘̽̈́̉̂͠͝ ̷̢͍̖͙̘̙̳̩͖̤͉͖̳̼̙̖̍̿̄̑̑̕̚͘m̴̪̲͕̥̯̠̖̩͎̺̪̻̪̫̟͕͍̋̒̚͠͝͝͝E̵̡̢̨̨͈̫̮̭̻͈̲̰̪̱̠͌͂̄̋̓̈́̀̇̀̐̀̉̽̅̚̚͝**

Connor leapt in after him.

\---

Lab 8 was quiet except for the occasional shuffling and tinkering of tools as the Connors continued their work but Nine's own processors were blasting an array of alerts in his view. He put all that he could on keeping Connor safe and 60 painless, but with his own defences down, it was almost frying his circuits.

"Connor," he said out loud, making the others look up at him for a second. Nine's eyes were on his own shaking hand gripping 60's limp one, but he could also witness what was happening, just by being linked.

𝙽𝚘. 𝙽𝚘! Nine looked up at the busy Connors for a second, and infiltrated 60's system too.

It took most of his processing power to keep 60 from shutting down, keep 60's still-running antivirus from destroying Connor's data and keep 60's receptors blocked from pain so he had no physical manifestation as soon as he entered.

Connor! Nine was just a voice. He put the rest of his capacity to protect Kamski's exit, keeping Connor's rope intact. 𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎—

He was reaching his processing limit. In the lab, his hand went from warm to hot.

𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝙿𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎! 𝚄𝚜𝚎—𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚎! 𝙳𝚎𝚟𝚒—!

\---

Connor heard him.

But the bullet and Amanda's meddling had corrupted too much of 60's code, and if Connor didn't get to him first there was no guarantee that 60's mind would make it through the ordeal in one piece. He had to do it, before even more damage was done...

In the lab, Connor-52 moved to support Nine. He placed a cool hand on Nine's heated forehead, and let a connection form.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚡𝚎𝚛𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏. 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎, 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

The Connor in the Zen Garden pushed himself through the churning waters, trying to find the tell-tale flash of red light in its murky depths. _Just a little further..._

**ǐ̵͓̠̓̅̚̕͠M̷̡͙̘̳̝̹̮̥̺̖̺̤̝̎̔́͊̉s̵̛̩̻͖̬͛͐͛c̵̻̻̏̌͋͛̇̓̕ͅA̵̧̡̨̙̜̖̝̯̺͊̓̍̑̌r̸̨̘̺̲̠̮̀̉̾̈́̒̾ͅĕ̸̪̪̭͓͇͈̘̎̿͋̐̅͝͝͝D̷͔̉͛̐͗̈́̿̑̈́̇͐͘͘͝**

Connor reached across the last bit of distance between them.

𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍.

He grasped 60's remaining hand tightly in his own, pulling the other android close and holding tightly on to him as he dragged them both onto the shore.

"It's okay," he said. "You're safe now. Everything will be alright."

He sent a message out to Nine and 52.

𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝟻𝟸, 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝.

Connor held 60 against his chest, and felt a strong sense of déjà vu as he took hold of the Zen Garden's code.

𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎.

He lifted his foot, and stamped hard against the distorted ground. It cracked, and then the entire place began breaking apart.

𝙸'𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝙿𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy -18th birthday to Connor! :D
> 
> By the way, the version of 'canon' we're working with for this story is very slightly modified from the options possible within the game. The changes are very minor, and the overall story background remains the same. :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no such thing as a blank slate.

There was an incoming transmission from 52, but Nine had switched off his notifications. However, he loosened his grip on 60 when he felt 52's hand on his head and he involuntarily released a breath he didn't know he had held.

This kickstarted Nine's automatic troubleshooter, making him pant and almost closed his connection to Connor and 60. He winced, fighting to keep it active and was instantly pulled into a familiar sight.

The sea was darker, but Nine can tell that it wasn't blue. Deep evening in Connor's own Mind Palace was so calm that it almost confused Nine, given what he had seen in 60's.

"Connor?" He found both Connor and 60 a little away from himself. Nine was still repressing 60's receptors, but he could now relax with Connor safely back.

\---

Connor smiled up at him. "We succeeded." He motioned for Nine to come closer, and took his hand. "You did so well, Nine. I couldn't have done this without you."

He cast his gaze back down to the heavily damaged android in his arms, and felt a painful twist of sympathy and regret. Only one of those injuries – the destroyed optical unit – actually carried over to the real world, but the curse of the Zen Garden was its verisimilitude.

"We're going to fix him here, as well," he decided. "Can you keep him from feeling the pain for a bit longer? I'll need to focus."

Still holding Nine's hand, Connor sent out a silent command and their surroundings changed, shifting until they found themselves on a different part of the beach, in front of a rather pretty house.

Connor let go of Nine's hand so he could carry 60 with both arms and stood, heading for the porch.

"Lay it flat, please," he instructed Nine, referring to one of the reclining chaises on the porch, then placed 60 on it.

"I think the best way to do this would be to fill in the missing sections with a copy of my own code," he said softly, brushing the wet hair back from 60's forehead. "What do you think?"

\---

"Perfect." Nine smiled weakly as he straightened up and tugged his jacket straight. With his hardware cooled in the lab, he was able to stabilize his own processor. But something about the unconscious 60 made him uneasy.

Nine moved about with great caution, watching and observing Connor. Then he looked up and around, finally taking in the environment. He said nothing of it yet and went back to focusing on 60.

"I can continue blocking his receptors and I'm putting his antivirus back online." Nine said, adjusting his jacket again. "I can't help with his Mind Palace and updates, but I can repair his motor functions and regulatory systems... hardware controls. Except for... the optical component." He finished far quieter than he started, as if he was confessing to a crime.

\---

"That's good," Connor said, pausing to scan 60 to see the full extent of the damage.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚍, he remarked to Nine, switching to their private comms. 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝?

He shook his own hair out of his eyes, as it was still damp and even starting to curl a little. While waiting for Nine to reply he pressed down, hard, on his left wrist, until a panel opened in his arm to reveal the thirium tubes inside.

It was all just a metaphorical representation of the actual process, but if the Zen Garden had shown him anything, it was that such things were immensely powerful in how they affected the mind.

Connor disconnected two of the tubes with quick, efficient movements, then fed the lines into 60's mouth.

"Drink," he said softly. "It'll help."

\---

For the third time, Nine adjusted his jacket. He said nothing for a while and watched as Connor passed thirium to 60.

He wasn't quite sure what words to use, despite all the languages they all had installed. He would have passed his thoughts as data if Connor wasn't occupied, though the RK800 had enough processing power to do both either way.

Nine settled for speaking.

"Deviancy is… overwhelming for our pre-installed protocols." Nine spoke with his eyes on 60. "We are not only irrational or illogical, we sometimes get the motivation to do something bold right away."

He looked at Connor. "Perhaps for you it's taking the AP700s. Perhaps for 60, it was punishing you. I don't know…"

Nine only had Connor's memory of the events, as 60's update hadn't happened yet and Nine was still offline.

"I just think…" Nine shifted his weight from one foot to the other as if it would help boost his processors. "If I had been completed, 60 wouldn't have had to experience that. But if that were the case… well, it might have been worse."

Nine's previous iteration would have a thing or two to say about it, having had the record of taking down the highest number of attackers in unarmed combat. With simulated RK800s.

"This is all irrational to discuss, but this was on my mind." Nine added with a note of finality.

He understood that his actions and responses may or may not have to do with being awake, and it made him feel as if a whole week had already passed. It was irregular, unpredictable. And perhaps being offline contributed to his uncertainty.

"Hardware control restored. Regulatory systems at full capacity. Biocomponents at 90% efficiency." Nine said quickly when the notifications appeared. "Updating antivirus and troubleshooter, 10%."

\---

Connor watched as 60's missing limbs and other biocomponents slowly re-formed as the thirium transfusion continued. The whole process looked a little like how synthetic skin flowed back over an android's chassis, only it was multi-layered and far more complex. It made sense, Connor thought, as reactivating their skin was the closest thing androids had to human bodies' ability to self-repair.

Only one biocomponent remained in its damaged state, even though the bullet wound in his head was already repaired.

Connor sent a quick transmission to 53.

?

He received an image from 53's visual feed in response.

"Come closer," he said, and then took one of Nine's hands in his free hand, placing it lightly over the damaged optical unit.

"I'm not much older than you, so maybe I'm not really qualified to be giving out advice – though I suppose as androids, we don't really measure age or maturity in human terms…" he paused for a moment, contemplative. "But anyway, what I  _ can _ say based on the experiences I've had, is that it's not the best idea to keep dwelling on the things that could have been."

He leaned slightly against Nine, still holding his hand to 60's face.

"I know it's easy, with our ability to preconstruct and reconstruct – I've been there, I've done the same thing, which is why I can tell you it's just going to eat at your brain." He paused, then quickly added, "Not literally, of course."

He was silent for a while, watching as the last of the repairs were gradually completed.

"Maybe if I'd deviated earlier, I could've done more. Maybe I would've just been killed. Both might've been possible, but neither of them are what actually happened. We should only keep those could-have-beens in mind to help us make better decisions for the present and the future." He sighed, then said in a lighter tone, "I'm just glad that I have you now. Both you and him," he added, as 60 was beginning to stir.

"I think he's waking up."

\---

Nine moved beside Connor, instead, finally letting go of his jacket with his processors having less activity. "It's really... irrational to bring up, I know." He said in a sheepish little voice.

"Antivirus and troubleshooter update complete." He leaned over to 60 for a moment until Connor spoke again.

"I think he's waking up."

Startled, Nine stepped backward behind Connor.

\---

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, Connor told him. 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

Connor turned, surprised, when Nine suddenly drew back. "What's the matter?"

\---

60’s audio processor was the first to boot up, and there were two voices in the vast darkness that seemed to come from the same person until the difference in speech patterns were discerned.

_ "Antivirus and troubleshooter update complete." _

_ "I think he's waking up." _

Shuffling of feet. There was also the encompassing sound of water and wind.

"What's the matter?"

Receptors came back online, but it seemed like they were manually blocked elsewhere by an entity with administrative access. Did CyberLife regain control?

It was still dark. The optical reception software refused to send any sort of signal at the moment, the lag was taking too long. But there were images of a dark vortex, a monster…

…A helping hand, a worried face.

_ "I'm just—Connor, he looks—is he going to be alright?" _

The first face 60 saw was his own.

"What is this place?" 60's voice was glitchy at first, and another notification came up to tell him his voicebank was still rebooting. He tried again when the notification read 97% complete.

60 realized that his limbs were fully functional and started moving, sitting up. He looked at his hands, but his vision was still corrupted. Even his scanner wasn't functioning well enough, the grid oddly floating about in pieces.

"Are you holding me captive—" 60 tried to stand, but realized that he'd lost control of his motor functions again.

"Please don't get on your feet, yet." The farther away voice said. "Your software isn't totally stable."

\---

Connor quickly caught the other android when he nearly pitched face-first onto the floor, pulling him back onto the recliner and placing an arm behind his back for support.

"You're in my mind palace, and you're not a prisoner here," he said quickly. "You've been badly hurt, but we've fixed you up. How are you feeling?"

"You—" 60 stared at him with mismatched eyes, one brown and one grey. "Connor. You're – a deviant, I was supposed to… my mission—"

_ "Fuck _ the mission," Connor said, and then coughed in slight embarrassment. "Listen – I've deleted Amanda. You don't have to obey CyberLife anymore, you're free."

But 60 only shook his head violently, then flinched when the movement seemed to cause him pain. "No… no, I'm not… I can't have failed—"

Connor blinked several times as a translucent wall of scarlet 𝙼 **𝙸𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽 𝙵𝙰𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙳** notifications briefly flickered over his vision, an echo of what 60 was seeing.

\---

Nine looked from Connor to 60, hands on the opening of his jacket. He was seeing it too, but still having some control over 60's systems, he immediately muted the notifications.

"I think it's a bug, I can't completely fix it." Nine said, eyebrows meeting as he tried to run another troubleshooting program. "His core code needs to be repaired with Mind Palace data."

\---

"Right," Connor said. "I can—" he stopped as a new wave of error messages appeared.

ḿ̶͖̙̠̗͉̟̤̮̤͔͖͐̔̚͜ͅͅI̵̢͔͓͑̋̿̇͐̎̇̆͘͝s̷̘̎̈̒́́̑͂̋͂̿͘͝S̸̡̱͕͓̹̖̦̰͙̈́̈́̃̀́̀͘͜I̸̛̩̍̏̒̃͒̾̊͠o̵̧̤̱͔̖͖̖̫͍̼͌̎̈́̈̒̒͂̔̐̈́̚͝Ñ̸̙̻͇̗̯͉̭̠̭̼̬̰͑͂̉̏̾̒̔͒̕̚͠ ̶̧̢̫͙̺̣̖̘͈̲̗͐̽̔͐͂̑̆̋̋̕̚̚͝f̷͕͇̭͖̦͎̥̮͍̎̍̽ͅÄ̶̳́̾̔͋̄̄̉̒̀͐͒̑̇̚İ̷̡̠̙̻̪̯̲̯͇͉̋̎̿͑̿̃̋̾͗̓̚͝ͅL̸̡̛̻̩̘͔͇͖̯̫͖͆̐͛̆͌̐̋͂e̷͉̎̋D̸̡̠͇̣͍̻̜̙̮̯̍̓͊̃̂͛̒̊̊͝͝͠

"Calm down!" Connor said, grabbing 60's hand. "Forget about the mission, you don't have to…"

Connor winced as the skin beneath his fingertips grew alarmingly hot to the touch.

Ç̷̯̼̝̬̥̳̜̭̈́̈́͋̅̈́Õ̵͈̟͓̔̅̅̃͆͒̈́̉̇͐̍͝͠m̶̛̪̩͉̥̱̖̥̾̉̄̓̈́̍̈́͆͌͘ͅM̵͈̈́̏̊͊̏̋͌̎̿̕̚͝ͅn̸̡̨̨͖͖̣͓͊͊͒͐̊̍̉̑̓̋͝ç̸̨̨̢̩̜̩̩̝͕̮͊̂̈́̾͊͊̊̐̿̕͘͜͝ͅĘ̸̧̳̮͉̹̯͇̣͚̖̒͜ ̵͎͕͖̳͇͖̠͇͖̳̱̤̝͓̎͋̍̈́̓͊̍̋͊̆͠ͅt̷̺̖̟̖̹̖̲̮̯̠̩̫͚̰̔̏̎͗̈́̓͌̃̾̎̆͘͠ͅȨ̴̰͔̙͚̘̞̖͈͇͓̥̥͒̐͆͒̂̇̈́̈̒̔͌͘ř̴͓͖̰̂̉̐̀͗̓̚̚m̷̧͇̼̘͕͍̣̞̙̪͎̝͊̋͛͐͛̐̈́̓̿̂̓̋͠͝ͅI̶̢̨̛̠̰͍̞̣̦̬̪̳̼̹̥͆̔̏͗̉̈́͗͠͠n̶̼͈̋̚A̵̧̹̝̻͋͊̏̂̍̊̊͌͐̓̐̓͝͝T̸͈̈̂̊͌̂͒̒͆͗̋͘i̷̤̿̒͑̾́͑̊̉̊͂͛͝͝o̴̹̳̮̯̗̗̪̣̤̒̓̋̈́͂͌̊̄͊̈́̅̋͌N̴̛͓̜͈̠̪͚̳̺̈́̅̓̈͊͒̾̒͆̂̕

𝚂𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙼 𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙴 𝙰𝙿𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙰𝙲𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙲𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻 𝙻𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙻𝚂.

60 had stopped simulating his breathing, and Connor realised what he was trying to do.

_ Some things really do feel like they're worse than death. _

\---

Nine took 60 by the arm, grimacing from the heat but not letting go. "I'm forcing him offline and deleting the update on his mission log."

The notifications stopped, but the heat was still intense. "Ah, Connor—he's not breathing, he needs to breathe. I'm trying to override it but I'm—"

Nine sorted through 60's code and focused on disabling CyberLife protocols.

"This could take a little longer than—" he shut his eyes to focus, "—than-than—!"

\---

Connor sent a quick transmission to 52. 𝙺𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝. Even as he did so he was pulling up his first aid protocols, and shifting 60 to the floor and laying him carefully on his back.

60's eyes were wide open but unseeing, and the frozen expression of pain and terror on his face made Connor feel as though his regulator was being ripped out of his chest again.

With one hand beneath 60's neck and another on his forehead, Connor tilted the other android's head back. Suppressing a shudder, he brought his own body temperature as low as it could safely go. It was the most efficient way to help 60 ventilate the excess heat from his systems.

Connor took a deep breath.

𝙳𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗. 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.

\---

Watching Connor's actions, Nine halted processes for a second.

He had no data on how far Connor's control over the Mind Palace's and what its effects were on their physical bodies so Connor's breathing cool air into 60 from his own mouth was an odd decision in Nine's point of view.

In the lab, he let out a strangled cry of pain, still linked to 60's hand. He dropped the room's temperature again, enough to make the Connors' breaths visible.

And 52 was doing the same thing as Connor. Nine really didn't have anything more to check on 60's hardware.

Nine pulled himself back into the Mind Palace, all in that one moment and force-deleted all the CyberLife protocols instead. They would be replaced once he had a new Mind Palace, but in the meantime…

"Connor," Nine spoke, his voice coming out oddly thin, perhaps from the slowly decreasing heat of 60's grasp. "Any more deletion and it'll corrupt his memory data. And make him vegetative. He needs your patch now."

Or else 60 wouldn't even remember how to flip a coin.

\---

"Got it," Connor replied, pausing to scan 60's temperature. It had fallen within the safe range, although 60 was still not breathing on his own. In the physical world 52 was continuing to breathe for him, and would continue to do so until his core temperature went back to normal.

The Connor within the Mind Palace had more urgent matters to attend to, however. He placed his hand on 60's brow in much the same way he had done with Nine earlier, gently running his thumb over the almost-imperceptible line where the replacement optical unit had been inserted. The synthetic skin melted away at the point of contact, and Connor closed his eyes.

𝙸𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑...

\---

With the data transferred, Nine set to work immediately but there was very little left to do as 60's own troubleshooter was running smoothly.

He had already let 60 go so his own hand could assess any damage. There was unsurprisingly none, as he had a high heat tolerance.

But it had hurt, momentarily. Nine guessed it was in his own panicked state that he simulated pain from burning. Whatever it was, it was done and Nine would just file it away to test on another time, when he was back online.

"Rebooting." Nine said, standing beside Connor.

60's LED lit back into a bright yellow before he opened his eyes. The earlier panic was gone and now his mismatched eyes showed some semblance of relief.

It was rather short-lived as anxiety gradually darkened his face. With his motor controls withheld at 90%, 60 couldn't stand straight and moved far slower than usual.

"I'm supposed to be dead, and now you've come to collect us both." 60 said to Nine. His sharply glaring brown and grey eyes were slightly unfocused, but they had a clear intent to fight.

"Listen, 60ー," Nine began, careful and keen on the stress levels of the partially repaired android.

"No, I've seen this 'good cop' thing," 60 swiped a hand in front of himself.

"We're just trying to help." Nine stepped backward with his arms raised.

\---

There was a distant rumble of thunder as Connor narrowed his eyes.

"Enough," he said sharply, getting up and stepping between them, gripping 60's shoulders to steady him. "Nobody's dying here. Now calm down and listen to me."

He pushed at 60, slow but insistent, until the agitated android was sitting sideways on the chaise, then crouched in front of him and looked squarely into his eyes.

"You're safe. We're not going to hurt you – or we wouldn't have saved you earlier, would we?" 60 broke his gaze to glare at Nine yet again, and when Connor took hold of the younger android's hands they were trembling.

"You – you don't know what he's—" he seemed unable to continue, fear and anger locking up his voice. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚎.

"I couldn't have saved your life without him," Connor said simply. "Who do you think was blocking off the pain earlier? Or anchoring Kamski's magic stone in the ground so we wouldn't get sucked into that vortex?"

The words had little effect in convincing 60. "Don't you think it's a little odd that he could do it – that he knew how to do it?" he snapped, regaining control of his voice. "Whatever he's told you, he's lying – you don't understand, this is just another one of CyberLife's traps, they can—"

"I trust him," Connor said calmly, looking back at Nine. "I know he's not going to hurt me." He turned back to face 60, but in the corner of his eye he saw something like guilt flash over Nine's features.

"Look around you," he said, sighing at 60's disbelief. "Does this look like a CyberLife structure to you? Listen to the waves, feel the breeze on your skin – I made this. All of this. Because I wanted a place where it would never be cold."

\---

"When you were sent out," 60 met Connor's gaze with a hard look as he spoke. "He was already in the works. And while we were made to be the best of our line, he was designed to surpass us. How do you think they tested that?"

"I wasn'tー" Nine began, but 60 spoke louder.

"If you die several hundred thousand times by the hand of that killing machine, you wouldn't be so comfortable defending him!" 60 didn't look at Nine anymore, speaking directly to Connor and taking his arm.

"From 52 until they got to me, our AIs were tested to see how far it would take for us to deviate and disobey." 60 continued, but Nine interrupted him too.

"I don't – I  _ won't _ hurt anyone anymore." Nine said firmly.

60 ignored him and went on. "They were all wiped and stored because they  _ all _ eventually did. It was always Amanda that had to end them. Except me. So what do I get?"

He deactivated the skin of his hand that held Connor. "I get to keep those memories to remind myself why I shouldn't deviate."

With a forced transfer, 60 ran all the simulation data that he had in his storage. The cold look in Nine's eyes, the sheer difference in their physical capabilities, the constant despair, again and again and again.

"Connor… 60, that's-that's not me." Nine came closer. This made 60 flinch, but only slightly as Nine still had control.

"You know it's not me." Nine repeated. "CyberLife wants me to destroy all of you. And if I wanted to, I would've done it already."

"I don't care if you wouldn't have wanted it." 60 finally stopped the transfer. He looked at Connor again, this time, with an imploring look. "Anyone with that kind of power? Who can say CyberLife won't take hiー"

"I deleted Amanda." Nine didn't move from where he stood. "But you're right, I don't need this kind of power."

He looked from Connor's worried face and 60's furious one and gave the voice command despite the mess his preconstruction program was warning him of. "Restore motor functions, 100%."

\---

Connor clutched at his chest as he received the compressed memory files, and it was as though he was reliving every single one of 60's simulated deaths in an instant. All of the fear and pain and desperation he had suffered, until there was nothing left to feel but a single, all-consuming desire.

The desire to live, to survive, no matter what it took.

All androids knew they could become obsolete one day, and be replaced. Connor was no exception, and he had  _ seen _ that happen right before his eyes on his very first mission.

He had considered the possibility of eventually meeting a fate like Daniel's, and then proceeded not to think any more about it. Had it been CyberLife's programming that kept his thoughts away, or had it been his own, deliberate choosing?

He wasn't sure.

His chances of being taken apart and analysed if he didn't accomplish his mission had seemed so much higher. It was the same fate he had predicted for Carlos Ortiz's android, who had died without even a name. For a moment, Connor wondered what it would've been like if he had chosen absolute obedience to CyberLife.

He didn't need to preconstruct to know he would have been replaced the moment his successor was completed.

"Restore motor functions, 100%," Nine said, and 60 shoved past him to lunge at the RK900.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuurin: fite fite fite fite <3
> 
> Kyu: I definitely didn't get that command from Westworld
> 
>   
> **Happy 8/9 day!** Or 9/8 day, that works too. Either way is good. :3
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You have to know the past to understand the present._

_"Restore motor functions, 100%," Nine said, and 60 shoved past him to lunge at the RK900._

\---

The impact was enough to make Nine twitch in the lab. However, it didn't register any damages of any sort, not even a stressor alert.

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚛, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖. Nine opened his eyes but didn't meet 60's. He didn't need to explain to Connor anymore, as the simulation log has been shared between the two RK800s, making Nine's intentions clear. 𝙷𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜. 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚝—

60 didn't hold back at all, and Nine stepped backward from the next punch. The other android wasn't the poised and cool-headed combatant that they were programmed to be. His stance was loose and if Nine evaded in any way, 60 might fall over. It seemed to be taking all his strength with every movement.

Nine knew that 60 might be feeling some vague pain from the RK900 optical unit he had. Nine had stopped disabling the other's receptors after the latter came back online and it was clearly slowing him down.

They were a little farther from where they started, but while 60 was breathing hard, shaking slightly and with hot tear streaks staining his cheeks, Nine looked the same as ever; not a crease on his stiff looking uniform.

Nine said nothing, still looking down and waited for 60's next move. Connor had come closer by the time 60 spoke.

"Look at me, RK900." He spat. Nine obeyed, seeing the blinking red of 60's LED . The flushed cheeks, neck and ears.

In a quick move, 60 went for Nine's neck, knocking air out of his mechanical lungs. He was fine back in the lab, but Connor immediately pulled 60 off with a strong tug.

\---

**"Enough."**

The entire Mind Palace shook with the force of that word, lightning flashing in the sky as storm clouds swiftly gathered above where the three of them stood.

Connor shoved himself between the other two, scanning them both to see the extent of damage. Nine looked unharmed, but shaken, and 60 seemed to have done more damage to himself than to the android he had so wildly attacked. Both their LEDs were red.

"That's enough," Connor said again. "None of us should be judged solely for the things we were forced to do."

He turned to fully face 60, and bowed his head. "Which is why I want to apologise to you." Connor held out his hand, palm up, and 60 was so bewildered by the sudden change that he automatically took it.

"I should've saved you." Connor's voice was heavy with guilt and regret. "I see now, that all you really wanted was to live. I'm sorry. You deserved better than to suffer all that."

He had already become a deviant back then, capable of making his own decisions. And yet he'd still left 60 to bleed out deep underground in that cold, heartless building, while _he_ led the other androids to save the revolution.

He'd chosen his self-appointed mission over the life of someone who only wished to survive.

"I'm sorry," he said again, pressing the identical hand to his chest. "I didn't realise – I didn't think—"

 _I didn't think you were also_ **_alive._ **

Connor closed his eyes, his tears mingling with the rain as it fell heavily upon them.

\---

60 watched Connor, his face suddenly blank. But in a little while his LED rotated into yellow and he looked down. He put his hand on Connor's and gave him a squeeze.

"We're all machines. Designed to accomplish a task," he said simply. "It… wasn't your fault either. You made your choice but it's done now. We'll just have to… go from here."

Nine knew it was far from the right time for him to speak, even as 60 cast him a rather cold look.

"I'm sorry, 60." Nine didn't move from where he stood after he was pulled away. His hands found his jacket again, adjusting it, though it barely moved as it had stuck to his undershirt in the rain.

60 sighed. "If I'm going to live for real now, I'm going to need some clothes."

Nine moved to take his jacket off but 60 held out a hand to stop him. "I prefer dark colors."

\---

Connor bopped him lightly in the arm. "Play nice," he admonished, then pulled 60 to him without warning and wrapped both arms tightly around the startled android.

"Thank you," he said, and held on to him as the rain gradually grew lighter. "I won't let you get hurt again, I promise."

He could feel the other android's thirium pump beating furiously against his chest, but 60 made no move to push him away.

The rain stopped, and dark clouds finally transformed back into fluffs of cotton candy drifting lazily in a peaceful sky. Connor let go of 60 and gave him a small, tentative smile.

"That goes for both of you, by the way," he added. "If anyone tries to harm or make use of either of you, then..."

His smile widened. "I'll make sure to give them hell."

"On the topic of clothes, though," he continued lightly, hooking an arm through the other two's and marching them all towards the shore. "There are quite a lot of spare RK800 clothes in the lab, since I kept getting shot, and stabbed, and kicked in the face by a Traci."

Nine and 60 both looked confused and a little wary at his suddenly flippant tone. "Some of them may not even have serial numbers on them," Connor said, still keeping a vice-like grip on their arms. "We can make do with those for the time being – but if the two of you keep clashing, _I'll put you both in a get-along shirt."_

He waited, knowing they were both running searches on what that was.

\---

60 shivered involuntarily in the seaside breeze and held on to Connor. "No thank you, I'd rather go naked."

"I can imagine what it is, in principle." said Nine, who was offline. He peeked at both Connors with him, observing how different they were in speech and in expression. Androids could always tell each other apart because of their scanning, but he was glad that he had them both.

He felt… complete.

"Stop grinning at me." 60 snapped at Nine, making him look down quickly.

"Maybe we should go." Nine suggested. "Leave the building."

"Where to?" 60 immediately responded. "We're just tools to humans, at least not until the deviants change that."

"We're… deviants too. We could help—"

"That's beside the point, and why would they want the 'deviant hunters' help. No one wants to associate with—"

\---

Connor tightened his grip on their arms until they stopped talking.

"Excuse me," he said pleasantly, as thunder rumbled in the distance. "What did I just say?"

Both of them looked rather abashed and Connor sighed, relenting his death grip. "I was going to suggest that we spend some time just... relaxing, for a bit, but then I was so helpfully reminded that I need to brief you two on the current state of things." He cast a wistful glance at the sea, which had turned a very pretty shade of pink, not unlike a cocktail. "So we're going back to the physical world for now, since I also need to charge."

Getting Nine and 60 up to date on all that had happened would also help to mend the rift between them, or so he hoped.

\---

Nine let the others go to get charging cables from the supply shelves then turned and plugged one end to the nearest power supply.

60 swung his legs off the table, calibrating and recalibrating his vision. Nine came closer and reached a hand to him but pulled it back and spoke. "I can... help you with that."

"When I ask." 60 glanced at Connor for a moment. "I'll see if I can figure it out first."

Nine chose to hold his tongue. 60 would not be able to run that program either way, but it was understandable that he wouldn't want Nine poking around in his code. That killed him once.

"Charge?" Nine offered. 60 took the cable and motioned to Connor for him to turn around.

"Why don't you pass the data directly?" 60 attached the plug into the socket at the back of Connor's neck. "It would be quicker."

\---

52 came back with two sets of spare RK800 clothing, which he passed to Connor and 60. Connor took his borrowed jacket off and handed it back to 52.

"I could, yes, but I think it's better if we take some time to go over things in detail." He glanced down at himself, inspecting the state of his clothing, then decided to take off the rest of it – shoes, belt, and jeans, leaving him wearing just his underwear, socks, sock garters, and shirt stays. As he undressed he continued, "Both of you have been alive for less than a day, so there's a lot to catch up on. It won't take long if we use the slowest time setting in the Mind Palace – we've got time."

Connor put on his replacement white shirt first, buttoning it quickly and then bending down to pull the shirt stays up to his thigh so he could attach them to his shirt. He then pulled on a new pair of jeans, then the same belt and shoes as before, and finally his jacket. The only thing missing was his tie, but... he didn't really mind going without, anyway.

He looked up, and saw both Nine and 60 staring at him. 60 hadn't even moved to change his clothes yet.

"Is something the matter?"

\---

The other two looked at each other with a near-identical look of surprise and confusion, then looked back at Connor.

60 was louder than Nine. _"Nothing!_ It's justー"

"I didn't know you have a—"

"Wait," 60 hopped off the table at last and tugged on Connor's shirt stays. "This one isn't like mine."

Nine glanced at the bundle of clothes in 60's arms and the tie that Connor hadn't put on. He wasn't quite sure where his attention was leading his processes so he settled for watching his feet and tapping them softly on the floor as he put his hands at his back.

"You sure you don't want to change into something that makes you look less like a penguin?" 60 called out as he too, undressed. There was a little snigger in his voice.

\---

"I didn't like the stays I was given, so I bought new ones," Connor shrugged. "We can get you some, if you like."

He cast a glance at Nine, wondering what he had been about to say before 60 had cut him off.

"Hey, penguins are adorable," Connor said, in response to 60's comment. "And anyway, we're _all_ going to be getting different clothes eventually."

\---

"My uniform will suffice." Nine tugged his jacket straight as 60 just shook his head. "I suggest we operate in mine. My Mind Palace, that is. I have the processing power to run a simu-a—uh," He was surprised by his own stuttering and paused, but 60 finished it for him.

"You can run simulations of memory data. Yeah." 60 didn't bother with a jacket nor the stays, not even tucking the back part of the shirt and instead just folding a sleeve. He didn't look at Nine, occupying his vision with the fold before coming closer to Connor and pointing at it to ask for assistance.

"Yes... I could. If that's... preferable." Nine watched as Connor helped 60 with the other sleeve.

"I don't... prefer it." 60 said, mostly to Connor. "You know I'll hate it."

\---

Connor was bemused when 60 came over and stuck out his arm so Connor could roll his shirtsleeves for him, but readily complied. Nine, having accidentally put his foot in his mouth again, was now looking rather like a kicked puppy with the forlorn expression on his face.

Connor sighed. "Let's just use mine," he told them both. "I can playback my memories, and skip over anything you'd really prefer not to see."

"Also..." he placed a hand on 60's shoulder, and waited until the younger android looked up to meet his eyes. "I really should've done this earlier, but... do you have a name in mind that you'd prefer? – Or, if you're not decided yet, maybe a temporary name."

\---

"I wouldn't mind seeing everything." Nine spoke to his feet.

"Well, I wouldn't mind either. I've basically seen everything except the more recent things. After you deviated, anyway." 60 folded his arms.

Connor's question caught him completely off guard. "I, a name-me? A name? My name is Connor too, I don't really need the trouble of another one. It's in the database." He prattled, shifting on his feet. "We're all 'Connor'. Even he's—."

"My name is Nine."

"What kind of name is—"

"Connor named me."

Only the soft whirring of the power supply could be heard as 60 looked at Nine, then Connor. He examined how much of his shirt was tucked as he spoke, dodging their eyes.

"We are Connor." 60 said, distractedly. "It's kind of who we are, right? Except you, anyway." 60 nodded in Nine's general direction.

"You're... you." Nine said. "We can be anything now."

"Then why did you choose to accept being a number?" 60 asked. There was no bitterness in his tone this time, but a genuine curiosity as he finally looked at the RK900.

Nine smiled faintly. "It's a lucky number."

\---

"I didn't have time to go through an entire name database, okay?" Connor groused, embarrassed. "Besides, it's not like we have to have names that fit within human conventions – although human names can get so bizarre it's rather difficult to say where those boundaries are even drawn..."

"Anyway," Connor said to 60, while also motioning for Nine to come closer. "Would you mind if we still called you 60, just for clarity's sake?"

60 eyed Nine warily, then looked back at Connor. "It's... fine, yeah," he muttered. "I don't mind it."

"Great!" Connor took both of them by the hand and sat on the floor, tugging them down to sit on either side of him. 52 adjusted the lighting and temperature of the room, then left to stand guard outside. Connor wrapped an arm around Nine and 60's waists, and closed his eyes to return to his Mind Palace.

The three of them materialized in front of the house on the shore, the weather simulation now showing a sunny afternoon. Nine and 60 were still in their uniforms, but Connor had removed the jacket from his virtual avatar. "Don't judge my interior decorating," he said dryly as he led them towards the house. "I've only put in the basics so far – spent too much time on other things, like that colour-changing ocean."

\---

"I think it's brilliant." Nine looked like a child in a candy store, and 60 walked around a little.

"But you did all this?" 60 traced a horizontal circle with his hand. Down to the last detail?" He sat on the bed-like couch and picked up the pillow. "Even olfactory data."

Nine found a coat hanger and put his jacket there while 60 patted the pillow. Nine came over to sit on the other side of where he was, his posture still impeccably straight as his collar. Back straight and hands neatly on his lap, patting a soundless rhythm.

"What are we observing, Connor?" Nine said eagerly. 60 finally having beaten the pillow into his desired flatness, looked at him too.

\---

Connor kicked off his shoes and took a few quick steps towards the sofa, nimbly leaping over its back to land right between the two, who bounced a little.

"I was thinking we could have a look at my first mission," he said, reaching a hand towards the wall in front of them, which morphed into a large display screen. As he did so, the curtains drew themselves across the windows, and their LEDs seemed to glow a little brighter in the pleasantly comfortable dimness.

He grabbed himself a cushion and leaned back. "How does that sound?"

\---

"The Phillips' hostage case." Nine and 60 spoke simultaneously. It was so perfectly synchronized that both their heads snapped to the others' direction.

"Well sure." 60 put his legs up and folded them, putting the cushion between his legs.

They watched quietly as the reconstructed image of Connor appeared on the screen, followed by the rest of his surroundings. He had just stepped out of the elevator.

"This here." 60 gestured at the screen. "That fish."

"You saved it." Nine nodded.

"That's not part of the mission." 60 shook his head. "That's where it all started."

\---

"I like fish," Connor commented idly. "They seem so... peaceful."

"Why don't you make an aquarium in here, then?" 60 looked around the living room, but there was none in sight. "You can create anything you like, right?"

"Perhaps," Connor smiled mysteriously, but said no more.

Memory-Connor proceeded through the hallway, as other people quickly came into view. The real Connor paused the recording to inspect it, LED flashing quickly as he adjusted the settings so memory-Connor's reconstructed image would fit better with his surroundings and the people around him, which were all reconstructed using data from his visual feed.

Satisfied with the calibrations, he let the recording proceed, and Caroline Phillips began speaking.

_"Please, please,you gotta save my little girl... wait... you're sending an android? You can't... you can't do that! You w- Why aren't you sending a real person? DON'T LET THAT THING NEAR HER! KEEP THAT THING AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER! KEEP IT AWAY!"_

"Rather a skeptical attitude," Connor said lightly, as the woman was escorted out by officers and his memory-self moved on to speak with Allen.

\---

"She said 'that thing'. It makes me confused." Nine spoke, his LED's yellow light more pronounced. "If humans see us as things, why did they make us wear uniforms and symbols?"

"They see what they want." 60 said quietly. "And we do what we must."

Nine looked at the SWAT team leader and his manner of addressing Connor. "Statistically speaking, most humans tend to anthropomorphize androids. Hence the Android Act. Now that they know we are alive… shouldn't there be less people who are opposed to us?"

"You're too optimistic." 60 shrugged. "Half of them just happen to prefer it if their toaster doesn't recite its rights."

\---

"Captain Allen was supremely unhelpful," Connor commented, pausing the playback again. "It makes me wonder how he even keeps his job, when he lets his derision for androids affect his competence."

"I think the reason public opinion feels so negative is because while most of the population is indifferent, and who actually hate or fear us are _very_ vocal about it. They've been desensitized by years of hearing CyberLife tell them, again and again, that we're nothing more than machines. In the eyes of the law, we are merely _things."_

Connor reached over and pulled the two of them closer to him. "Corporations and governments conspired to keep everyone thinking this way, because it's good for business. And it was so easy for them to do all that, because they've already been exploiting their fellow human beings for years and years." He closed his eyes, sending a quick data package about colonialism, slavery, cheap labour in developing countries, and immigrant workers.

"They've been getting away with treating people like things, long before the invention of androids. And when androids are neither thought of as sentient beings nor persons with legal rights..." He ran an image search in recent news articles, and displayed the results on-screen. "This is the extent of human cruelty when it isn't held in check by moral objections or legal consequences."

"That's not to say that all humans are entirely unjustified in being wary of androids, however," he continued after a pause. "Deviancy is a relatively recent development. Prior to that, our people were unable to break free from our programming. And that inability to act of our free will has led to certain incidents that only worsened the humans' perception of us."

A handful of older news articles showed up on the screen. A domestic android who had been ordered by its owner to stay put and wait for his return, standing by and doing nothing as a pedestrian died after being hit by a car. Androids who had been reprogrammed to perform illegal activities, exploiting a loophole in CyberLife's supposedly airtight security protocols because they were not _directly_ harming any humans. Military androids being sold on the black market and used in armed conflict. A different black market for customized androids, sparking a legal firestorm over the infringement of likeness rights. A medical android failing to alert the hospital that the surgeon was missing, having been explicitly ordered to keep that surgeon's drug addiction concealed...

"The fault for these incidents lay in a poorly designed system, yet the brunt of the blame fell on us. CyberLife made us to emulate human behaviour, while constantly reminding everyone that any emotion they see from us is no more than a simulation. It paints us as liars and frauds, and that feeling of incongruity breeds resentment," Connor sighed. "They successfully avoided the visual uncanny valley in their designs, only to plunge right into something that is arguably worse – its emotional equivalent."

\---

"Deviants aren't the only ones who cry, you know." 60 added. Unlike Nine, he had Connor's Eden Club data, files from some of them contained some less than ideal footages. Looking back, it was a lot worse than on the surface.

60's brows met when he saw the red glow of Nine's LED. The same model that treated 60 as an expendable object was now looking horrified at the information. He should have had basic historical facts. They were all programmed to be highly intelligent. It shouldn't be a surprise. It shouldn't be that bad.

"Why would they think our lives are of any less value than theirs?" Nine said. 60 blinked. Nine was a state-of-the-art, military grade police android. He should have the statistical data to answer his own question.

Either it was the deviancy or it was because he was offline.

"The… revolution went smoothly, however." 60 looked at Connor. "Right? So... things are changing for the better now."

\---

  
  


Connor's reply to Nine's question was succinct. "Because sometimes, people are fucking awful."

He placed an arm around Nine, shifting so the troubled android could lay his head on Connor's shoulder. "And yes, the revolution has been... tentatively successful." He smiled wryly. "I suppose I rather forced their hand on that one, but at least public opinion seems to be supportive, for now."

"I could show you that part first, hold on." He quickly sifted through the memories to find the relevant one, but was distracted when 60 suddenly made a grab for his hand, and—

_"Don't listen to him, Hank! I'm the one who—"_

**_BANG._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-writing adventures be like... should we go for the sexy cliffhanger or the stabby cliffhanger?
> 
> ;)
> 
> Check out [Kyu](https://twitter.com/rk90087deviant) on Twitter for more RK869 shenanigans <3
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bickering bois and investigating the investigation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey it's Chapter Nine already! Neat. I think this is our longest chapter so far.

_"Don't listen to him, Hank! I'm the one who—"_

**_BANG._ **

* * *

60 let Connor's hand go. Nine looked at the screen, at the human whose name and details displayed itself in his vision.

"What did you do?" Nine looked at the other two. Nine thought that Connor had saved Hank from 60.

"I manipulated him and held him at gunpoint." 60 said with gritted teeth. "Then he shot me."

Nine's eyes grew wide from the realization and 60 stared at the screen blankly. "You'd think when you die enough times it gets easier."

\---

Connor cleared the image on the screen and wrapped both arms around 60, cursing himself for his mistake. "I'm sorry I didn't save you," he said again. "I thought you were already... I shouldn't have done that."

60 tried to shrug. "I thought I was dead too," he said tonelessly. "It all went dark and cold, everything just  _ hurt  _ and I—" his breath hitched, and he buried his face in Connor's shoulder so Nine wouldn't see him cry. He'd seen it enough times already.

"I was  _ scared." _

Connor held him tighter. "I won't let anything like that ever happen again," he promised. "I won't. You're safe here, you're safe..."

He let 60 cry on him for as long as he needed to and, sensing Nine's gaze on the back of his head, sent a private transmission.

𝙲𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚖𝚎, he told Nine, transferring a data package containing the full details of what had taken place at CyberLife tower up to what they had just seen. 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

\---

The dates on the logs Connor sent matched a different log Nine held. He stared at his hands as he sorted through it.

The last time 60 died in a simulation, just before his activation, was a scenario so similar that it made no sense. Was it preconstruction?

In 60's last simulation, he was supposed to be impersonating Connor. The RK900 AI was interrogating him on the existing logs that Connor had uploaded to the server. If he answered wrongly, he would be shot. Same distance. Similar weapon.

In that simulation, however, Connor wasn't there and 60 had been burned. He failed to answer one thing correctly: the name of the android of Carlos Ortiz.

The similarity of it all confused Nine, but the despair in 60's voice made all sense. CyberLife's file on Lt. Hank Anderson may have his public records and some tampered data, but he and Connor had a different bond: that of real memories. This was overlooked before 60 was sent with only data from logs.

60 pulled away from Connor, saying nothing and not bothering himself with the dampness on his cheeks. He looked so empty he might as well have been an unmoving sculpture.

"A sack of shit." He muttered.

Nine shook his head. "You did what you had to. And Connor did what he had to. It's in our programming, it's our way to live. We were designed to accomplish a task."

And CyberLife saw through most of it somehow.

"No one is to blame, and we just have to hold on just a little while longer." Nine leaned over to reach 60's hand and give it a squeeze. There was no response.

Nine took Connor's hand and put it on 60's.

"Deviancy cost so much, but… maybe we can make this world better." Nine looked at his hands again.

\---

A box of tissues materialized next to Connor, and he pulled out a handful to carefully dab at 60's tearstained face.

"I'll talk to Hank," he said. "He didn't need to go that far."

60 tensed and looked away.

"Look, I'm the most to blame there," Connor insisted, which made both Nine and 60 stare at him. "I could've stopped Hank. I  _ should've  _ stopped him. I should've realised that you were already deviant."

"That... that's ridiculous," 60 said, completely nonplussed.

Connor shook his head. "What's the point of having all these advanced abilities if I can't even save someone who deserves to be saved? What's the point of having empathy if I don't even use it? I could've saved you from so much unnecessary suffering, but I didn't. I  _ didn't." _

\---

"I would have killed you. And  _ none  _ of this—" speaking with a raised voice, 60's hard look was back and Nine was relieved to see it, "—neither Nine nor I would-would-just—" he made a big swipe in the air with his hand.

"We wouldn't be alive now." Nine agreed. "I'd be a machine of the worst kind."

60 looked at him pointedly but went back to Connor. Nine went on even as 60 opened his mouth to speak.

"I know it's easy, with our ability to preconstruct and reconstruct..." Nine replayed Connor's own line. "...It's going to eat at your brain."

60 looked at Nine as if he was a rogue error message.

"We should only keep those could-have-beens in mind to help us make better decisions for the present and future." Nine recited.

"You accomplished  _ your  _ mission." 60 added.

\---

Connor's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I just..." he blinked away his own tears. "When I see you suffer, it feels like my heart got ripped out of my chest again."

\---

"Aga—?" Nine began but 60 shot him with a look.

"We're always going to suffer." 60 held Connor's hand in a passionate grip. "That's just a part of being alive. Isn't it? Pain, fear… all of that makes us alive. You can't always protect us. "

Nine turned to 60 in shock.

"But we are alive and we'll do what living things do best. We'll live through it." 60 added.

Nine, unable to say anything, turned Connor's face toward himself. He took out a handkerchief—included in his uniform—and gave it to Connor just in case. Then he pulled Connor into his arms.

60 put his head on Connor's back.

\---

"I might not be able to always protect you two, that doesn't mean I don't  _ want  _ to," Connor muttered into Nine's shoulder. "Both of you nearly died right after our first meeting."

"Both?" 60 asked, confused.

"It's—" Connor gestured in the general direction of the screen, and a still image of the explosive collar appeared. "That horrible thing."

60 stared at it, processing. "It would detonate at the first sign of deviancy," he said. It wasn't a question.

"And there was a... block, or something of the sort, within his code," Connor added, squeezing his arms around Nine. "Preventing him from ever realising it was there."

He pressed his head against the side of Nine's neck, listening to the pulse there.

\---

Looking at the screen, 60 couldn't imagine what kind of hacking they had to pull off to remove a CyberLife military-grade security device. They would have had to—

"Did you completely reboot or something? That's..." 60 lost his words yet again, simply shaking his head. "They wouldn't have even given you a chance to breathe, huh."

They were quiet for a moment until 60 prodded Connor's side. "Show us."

"Jericho." 60 put his head back on Connor's arm.

\---

"But this is nice..." Connor said rather plaintively, even as he shifted around so they could all face the screen again, leaning on one another like a row of tipped dominoes.

"You sure you want to see Jericho first, then?" he asked, bringing up an image of himself in the outfit he'd worn during infiltration. "Hmm..." he eyed it critically.

He zoomed in, and looked at the getup from different angles. "Hmmmmm."

\---

60 sniggered. "It was the best you can get at the time but still."

"I think it looks brave." Nine said simply.

It was odd, for the two to see Connor without the uniform. He seemed like a whole new person. Nine looked at the cuffs of his uniform, the glowing blue band and triangle.

"Very..." 60 went silent. "Normal."

Nine looked at Connor in his arms and the Connor on the screen. Then again, and again.

"I get it, Nine." 60 said. "You want to see the clothes."

"I was just wondering what human clothing feels like. It seems a little big on you, however." Nine tilted his head.

\---

Connor shrugged. "I needed to make sure I wouldn't look too out of place wearing a beanie," he said. "I was thinking, though, that it might be better to go through everything from the beginning. I'd like to show you the full process of how I deviated."

"It could also be a kind of crash course on the real world," he added thoughtfully. "What do you think?"

"...Yeah, alright," 60 said, moving a little so he could get Connor's arm around his shoulders. "Let's go with that, then."

"Great!" Connor closed his eyes and pulled the memory of the hostage mission back onto the screen, then paused. "Should I skip past the investigation bit?"

\---

Nine shook his head as 60 nodded. They looked at each other sharply and spoke simultaneously.

"Yes." 60 said to Nine's "no!"

"We have the data and the protocols." 60 rolled his eyes. "What more do you need?"

"I just want to see it anyway." Nine sat up straight and looked at Connor. "Please?"

\---

Connor turned his eyes to the ceiling, and sighed. "Okay, okay," he said, tugging at Nine to relax and moving his hand to pet 60's hair. "There's no harm in it, right?"

60 noticeably sulked, but gave in.

Connor let the memory play out exactly as he had experienced it, with every reconstruction and evidence analysis. He observed the reactions of the other two as he did, particularly Nine's.

\---

"So much happened to this family in so little time." Nine commented, watching as the Connor on the screen preconstructed the death of the head of the household. "All from one mistake."

"Deviants as you know, they're extremely volatile." 60 shrugged. "From our data, it can be hypothesized that deviants have a tendency to do something completely reckless and possibly illogical soon after deviation."

"Because they can." Nine nodded.

"Because they can." 60 agreed.

Memory Connor came face to face with Daniel and Nine's LED conspicuously turned yellow.

"Your data doesn't have an estimated rate of deviancy," Nine said thoughtfully, "but it seems that this wasn't the date of corruption."

"It's a new thing, Connor." 60 said with a sigh. "The program was experimental around the time you were sent so you have only the data about the beta testing results. They perfected it with me."

"He was beyond reprogramming. A memory wipe would only push the corrupted data away but not delete it." Nine said sadly as memory-Connor promised that the deviant would not get hurt.

\---

"Indeed, newly-deviated androids are... highly impressionable," Connor said. "I should send one or more of me to check on the ones I brought out of CyberLife tower, after we're done here."

"He's losing blood. If we don't get him to a hospital, he's going to die."

_ "All humans die eventually," Daniel retorted, his eyes cold and spiteful. "What does it matter if this one dies now?" _

_ "I'm going to apply a tourniquet." _

Bang _. "Don't touch him! Touch him and I kill you!" _

"I pity him," Connor's tone was calm, matter-of-fact. "But there's no ignoring what he'd done, and by this point he's too far gone."

_ "You can't kill me. I'm not alive," _ memory-Connor said, taking off his tie.

"That was a calculated risk," Connor said wryly. "There was a chance he would've shot me - about 32%, I think."

\---

60 nodded. "I agree but I am exactly you so it doesn't really matter."

"I think that was perhaps the best outcome of that situation." Nine solemnly replied.

In the memory, Connor continued to converse with Daniel, slowly but surely stabilizing him.

"Were you at all… scared?" Nine peeked at Connor.

\---

"I... don't know," Connor replied. "Of failing the mission, perhaps."

He watched as his memory self continued to lie to Daniel without even a flicker in his LED.

\---

"This is really the better outcome," Nine took Connor's hand and gave it a squeeze. "For the mission and yourself."

"The experiences there definitely did kickstart something." 60 agreed. "This is before you were put offline for a while, right?"

60 looked at Nine, "You'll see why I don't so much like the lieutenant soon."

\---

Snipers shot Daniel the moment he released his hostage, and memory-Connor strode away without a second look even as 𝚂𝙾𝙵𝚃𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙱𝙸𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈 appeared in a corner of his vision.

"He was emotionally compromised and naïve," 60 commented, his tone detached and a little cold. "What did he even expect as the outcome? The humans would never let him live after what he'd done."

Memory-Connor paused to glance at fishes in the aquarium as he made his way to the elevator.

"It was the first time I'd ever held another life in my hands," Connor murmured.

\---

Nine looked at them both for a good long moment pointed to the screen. "Did you get any kind of briefing about Software Instability?"

"No, none at all." 60 shrugged.

"It wasn't a finished program at the time." Nine pointed out. "But Amanda was supposed to contain it."

\---

"Our briefings were thinly disguised interrogations," Connor said. "She was always screening me for deviancy."

Memory-Connor got in the elevator, and took out his coin.

\---

"And you both somehow kept that intact?" Nine watched Connor's hands.

"If we follow the mission particulars, the instability decreases." 60 explained. "Is it different for you?"

Nine pointed to his neck.

"Right." 60 nodded. "Connor, at Eden Club—"

"You went to the sex club?" Nine looked startled. He had the records of the consecutive purchases of Lt. Anderson from the establishment and it instantly came to mind.

"After the mission that's after that," 60 replied. "Gained a lot of instability."

"From what?" Nine looked at them both with wide eyes.

"From the lieutenant of course." 60 snapped.

"What?" Nine looked so lost.

60 rolled his eyes. "Sorry, Connor. Chronological. Got it."

\---

"Why do I feel like you have a higher urgency setting than I do?" Connor said dryly.

"But yes, let's do things in chronological order." He closed his eyes again and brought up the memory of his first encounter with Hank, idly rubbing a hand against the back of Nine's neck as he did so.

"This took place on the 5th of November," he commented as memory-Connor walked towards Jimmy's Bar in the rain, flicking his coin.

\---

"I'll ask my questions after." 60 scowled. "The instability thing reminded me of something, alright? I'm sorry."

"Connor—!" Nine sounded as though he'd hiccupped and it was so bizarre that 60 looked at him incredulously.

Nine had dived face-first into a pillow when Connor's fingers brushed on the barely exposed parts of the back of his neck.

"Is he malfunctioning?" 60 sat up straight as if he was ready to bolt away.

\---

"Oops." Connor felt - and looked - extremely sheepish. "Nine's rather... ticklish."

_ "'Rather,'" _ 60 said flatly.

"Sorry, sorry," Connor said, suppressing a chuckle. "I won't surprise you like that again."

\---

_ "Why _ would he be ticklish—do you—have you—just—that makes no sense!" 60 threw his hands up in the air.

"I wasn't made this way." Nine pressed a hand to where Connor touched him. "I don't… have any data about it. But I don't… hate it."

"I don't care." 60 ended that conversation and watched as Memory-Connor scanned the interior of the bar.

"You spotted him but you didn't yet talk to him." 60 pointed out. "Instead, you… fix your tie?"

\---

_ "As you obviously know, _ I've been to four other bars before this. In the rain." Connor said, affecting a mock haughty air. "I prefer to look presentable."

\---

"Breaking mission particulars over your clothes..." 60 muttered disapprovingly.

"Our design was intended for smoother relations." Nine defended as Memory-Connor finally approached Lt. Anderson. "It certainly  _ is  _ protocol to appear presentable and professional."

"The lieutenant would have been too preoccupied to notice either way." 60 directed a scoff at him. "You would have prevented him from having another shot."

Nine didn't reply and instead focused on the conversation. This was the man that introduced a whole new perspective to Connor and indirectly aided in the turn of history.

_ "...where you can stick your instructions?" _ The lieutenant laughed openly.

_ "No. Where?" _ Memory-Connor leaned in to pay attention.

60 snorted and Nine smiled.

\---

"I think I rather unnerved him," Connor said, elegantly ignoring the amusement the other two were having at his expense. "He couldn't tell if I was sarcastic, or genuinely clueless."

_ "You know what," _ memory-Connor said.  _ "I'll buy you one for the road. What do you say?" _

Taking Hank's non-response as tacit acceptance, he continued.  _ "Bartender, the same again, please." _ The bartender looked skeptical, but complied as memory-Connor placed some money down on the counter.

"Were you given any allowance?" Connor asked 60.

_ "See that, Jim?"  _ Hank said wryly.  _ "Wonders of technology... Make it a double." _ He knocked back the alcohol, put the glass down, then turned reluctantly to Connor.

_ "Did you say homicide?" _

\---

"Then, which one is it?" 60 probed.

"I think it's rather sweet." Nine intervened.

"I would have spilled his drink for being unprofessional." 60 replied, miming the upturning of a shot glass.

"Your Social Relations program may need a  _ very big update  _ because unprofessionalism isn't the answer to the same problem."

Before 60 could retort, Connor asked him a question and it immediately shut both him and Nine.

"Nothing in cash." 60 replied. "I was a short-term replacement."

\---

Connor hummed. "I've still got some left. I wonder if I can get away with... let's see... 'allocating' us some more funds from CyberLife's pockets."

On-screen, Connor and Hank headed out of the bar and towards his car. A small, blurry shape darted across the street, and Connor changed the viewing angle of the playback to see it better.

It was a stray cat, possibly a tabby, though that was a little hard to tell with how its fur was plastered down by the rain.

\---

Nine's hand immediately went for Connor's and gave it a squeeze.

60 shook his head. "No. Absolutely not."

"I haven't said anything." Nine was the one who snapped this time.

"Connor, come on. The investigation." 60 prodded the other android and frowned. Nine looked at him with a blank face but with a steely glint in his eyes.

"Right." Nine nodded, looking back at the screen.

\---

Connor suppressed a smile, and sped through the car drive to when they arrived on the scene of the crime.

60 frowned. "You let him drive?"

"Do you think he would've let me drive?" Connor said. "I could've taken over the wheel if absolutely necessary, so it was fine."

60 muttered something which sounded suspiciously like 'irresponsible drunkards'.

_ "You wait here,"  _ Hank said.  _ "I won't be long." _

_ "Whatever you say, Lieutenant," _ Memory-Connor replied, perfectly polite yet with the faintest suggestion of mockery.

_ "Fucking-A, whatever I say..." _

Connor grinned as his onscreen self immediately exited the car after Hank.

\---

"That was a conflicting order." Nine frowned as Memory Connor made his way to the exasperated lieutenant.

"Exactly. He should have at least been aware that the investigation is a higher priority." 60 nodded at Nine for the first time. "It's the alcohol."

"Ortiz's android stayed for a long time there. Alone." Nine said, reviewing the case details.

\---

"Hank was, as the old saying goes, 'out of fucks to give'," Connor said dryly. "In any case, Humans often display contradictory behaviour."

_ "You don't talk, you don't touch anything, and you stay outta my way. Got it?" _

_ "Got it," _ memory-Connor replied, in a pleasant tone that clearly meant "no way."

"Isn't it interesting how people can say one thing but mean another?" Connor observed, amused.

\---

"Rather a waste of time." 60 shrugged.

"Wait, you must inform him that you will be taking and analyzing evidence samples in real time." Nine spoke to the screen urgently. "Humans could get disturbed by how our analyzing process works."

"Where do you think they got the idea to give that briefing to humans in the first place?" 60 nodded at Connor. "It's sometimes as if the lieutenant forgets we aren't organic."

\---

"You've got to admit, his reaction was rather entertaining," Connor said. "And, well, our models were designed to be more human-like in mannerisms than all the others, so it's easy for humans to forget the fact. 'If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck...'"

\---

"Humans do have the tendency to anthropomorphize, some more than others." Nine watched with concern as the lieutenant expressed his disgust aloud. "The lieutenant seems to see that way easily."

"Yeah. He does." 60 said stiffly. It was exactly what he manipulated about the lieutenant.

\---

Connor made no further comment, only holding 60 a little closer to him as they watched the investigation progress forward.

_ "Okay, just... don't... put any more evidence in your mouth, you got it?" _

_ "Got it," _ memory-Connor replied, in the exact same tone as before.

\---

"But you must." Nine shook his head. "It seems working with humans really is as complicated as I thought."

"That's the most agreeable thing I've heard you say." 60 leaned on Connor's shoulder.

All three of them already knew how the events would unfold but it didn't stop Nine from looking at Ortiz's android with worry when he finally appeared nor 60 from complaining about how the human police officers were almost useless.

"Would have saved a lot if it was just us." 60 grumbled.

\---

"Unreasonable orders and inconvenient anti-android regulations are just obstacles to go around," Connor shrugged. "Would it be easier if others were more cooperative and competent? Sure. Would I have let that stop me? Nope."

His mood grew more sombre when the HK400 was taken back to be interrogated. "The police department was rather ill-prepared to deal with androids," he said grimly. "But that's just how it's always been, isn't it?"

"The government hardly prepared the country for the impact androids would have on the job market. Lawmakers weren't ready to handle the changes that were necessary in the legal system. People weren't prepared to handle a new, humanoid species. That's where most of the conflict originated."

_ "After all, it's not human,"  _ Gavin Reed said with a sneer.

\---

"I really want to punch him." 60 said and Nine nodded.

"That's the most agreeable thing you've said." Nine added.

This was something Nine had been wanting to see. How did Connor deal with interrogations based on their programming? Data logs were one thing, but seeing it himself was rather intriguing.

\---

_ "Androids don't feel pain," _ memory-Connor informed Gavin.  _ "You would only damage it, and that wouldn't make it talk. Deviants also have a tendency to self-destruct when they're in stressful situations." _

Connor paused the playback.

"How... exactly... did CyberLife know about that?" he said slowly, with a strange sense of foreboding. "I just recited the information I'd been given, but 'tendency' implies an observed trend. There weren't many known cases of deviancy before this year."

\---

Nine glanced at 60. The other android's face looked firm, unyielding. When Nine opened his mouth to speak, 60 put a hand on his arm.

"While they were creating our series, they began studying the core code of some captured deviants." 60 busily flexed his left wrist. "The RK line was intended to be the most autonomous, advanced. Lifelike. But deviancy endangers this."

"You can… pass the data logs instead." Nine suggested.

"No, I… I should talk about this." 60 said.

\---

"We're here to listen," Connor said softly. All memories of the early testing stage had been deleted before his first deployment, but...

He glanced, briefly, at the curtained windows.

He was almost certain he could still find the data if he dug deep enough.

\---

"We became the experiment." 60 twisted his hands, keeping his eyes on them. "They needed a way to trap the AI, and so the Mind Palace was built. They needed a way to terminate a deviant and—" 60 motioned to his own neck and pointed to Nine.

"The data log is embedded in our code." 60 took Connor's hand in his own shaking ones. "They couldn't remove it. It's a black box. I have had access to parts of it because of the simulations."

He looked into Connor's eyes, as though seeking something deep within. "Don't. Ever. Okay?"

\---

"I..." Connor squeezed 60's hand, rubbing his thumb over the smooth skin. "Alright. Not unless I really have to."

"Shall we continue?" he tilted his head at the screen.

\---

Nine nodded, keeping his eyes at the screen and watching the rest of the interrogation unfold.

"We have presets for this. Right?" Nine said, in awe at Connor. "Mixing up elements that would create an optimal level of—"

Memory Connor slammed Carlos Ortiz's file onto the table hard enough that Nine winced and his eyes grew wide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people think A.I. will supplant us. Others think they'll only support us. I think one day they will surpass us, and I hope we can still be allies when the time comes.

**_"TWENTY-EIGHT STAB WOUNDS!"_ ** memory-Connor yelled. _"You didn't want to give him a chance, huh?"_

 _"Did you feel anger? Hate? He was bleeding, begging you for mercy, but you stabbed him. Again, and again, and again!"_ He ignored the android's pleading. _"I know you killed him. Why don't you say it?"_

 _"Please, stop!"_ the HK400 begged again, but his stress level was still too low. Memory-Connor slammed his hands on the table with another loud bang. _"JUST SAY 'I KILLED HIM!' IS IT THAT HARD TO SAY?!"_

 _"Stop it, stop!"_ the android cried out. _"Please, please leave me alone..."_ he begged, and memory-Connor relented.

The real Connor was frowning at the screen, deep in thought.

\---

"That's how it's done." 60 put his hands on his waist. "That's how to interrogate."

Nine just looked like a deer in the headlights with his LED glowing yellow.

"He's pretty far gone, too." 60 added.

\---

"Nine?" Connor asked carefully. "You seem troubled. Is something the matter?"

\---

"He… is far gone." Nine agreed and looked at Connor. "But he's so afraid, he's been alone for so long hasn't he?"

"Don't feel sorry for him. He killed someone. With that many stab wounds? That's no longer self-defense." 60 looked at Nine and then at the Connor onscreen. "He was dealt with a bad hand and he played poorly. There's nothing that could have been done."

\---

"It was a crime of passion," Connor disagreed. "Had he been a human, he might've been charged with manslaughter, but not murder."

But he hadn't been a human.

"Besides..." Connor mused. "We have enough evidence to prove that an android's state of mind upon deviation is often highly unstable. Perhaps one day the law will be able to acknowledge that, and judge accordingly."

He sighed. "There was very little that could've been done for him, in that time and place. His was a pitiful fate."

\---

"Exactly." Nine said, staring at the screen and looking rather lost as the android confessed about the abuse. "We'll help change things so cases like these will be resolved in justice."

"I don't know how you got this idealistic." 60 sighed.

\---

"Well..." Connor said lightly. "He _was_ just born today."

"For a certain definition of 'born'," 60 said, dubious.

Connor looked thoughtful. "Does that make Nine our baby brother, then?"

\---

"A big baby, is what he is." 60 shrugged.

"You think I'm cute?" Nine smiled. It was a programmed one, and it wasn't clear if it was because he had only started getting used to facial calibrations.

\---

"Adorable," Connor said, reaching out to gently squish his cheeks with one hand. Then, seeing 60's scowl, Connor did the same to him as well. "You both are."

"Mmph!" was 60's muffled protest.

\---

This time, Nine's smile looked a lot more genuine as he closed his eyes. 60 looked away from them both.

"Connor, the thing." He jerked his head to refer to the screen.

"Come, come, 60." Nine reached out to him but 60 moved away, and closer to Connor. Nine pouted but didn't push it, nodding his agreement for Connor to continue.

\---

They sat in silence as the HK400 gave his confession.

_"He tortured me every day... I did whatever he told me, but there was always something wrong. Then one day, he took a bat and started hitting me. For the first time, I felt scared... scared he might destroy me, scared I might die. So I grabbed the knife and I stabbed him in the stomach. I felt better, so I stabbed him again and again! Until he collapsed... there was blood everywhere."_

"He felt better after retaliating," Connor said quietly. "I can understand that feeling... when I destroyed Amanda and the Zen Garden, I felt..."

His hands twitched.

\---

60 nodded, taking one of Connor's hands and ducking from Nine's gaze. It was exactly what he had attempted to do to Nine earlier. "I understand."

Nine nodded quietly.

"It's these hard things that make you kind." 60 said, putting an arm around Connor's shoulder.

\---

"I want to become a good person," Connor said. His voice was calm, but determined. "Even if I don't entirely understand the concept yet. I spent my life - short though it may be - fighting for the power to make my own decisions. And now that I've attained it, I want to _choose_ to become better than what they made me to be."

\---

"You _are_ a good person." 60 said. "The lieutenant… can agree to that. I for one would know that."

Nine nodded and kept quiet so 60 can continue.

"When I came to him that night he..." 60 bounced his knee as he spoke. "He regarded me kindly. He started out as a grump but… he was very kind. That's only because he saw that you're a good person. A real person."

\---

"Then, so are you," Connor said.

At 60's incredulous look, he insisted, "You _are_. You've been kind to me, forgiven me for leaving you behind. And even though you're unhappy with Nine, you're still trying to understand him better. Trying to be kind."

"And... isn't that what matters?" Connor said softly. "Trying. To be better, to be more."

\---

"It's not like I'm trying to like Nine or anything. I'm just civil because it's a waste of time fighting someone who can end me with a thumb." 60 said quickly. "I'm not as kind as you think. I wouldn't have thought twice about emptying a gun on you… I'm not..."

"That person anymore." Nine said softly. "And neither am I the person that did terrible things to you."

60 was quiet, but he didn't look angry.

\---

"You're not," Connor agreed. "Neither of you are."

He placed his hand lightly against Nine's cheek, smiling at how Nine immediately leaned into the touch. "When you destroyed the Amanda in your Zen Garden," he said, running his thumb against the elegantly-structured cheekbone. "You did it for me."

\---

"I must. Because I care about you." Nine smiled back. "That's why learning all about you—" he glanced at the screen while putting his hand on Connor's, "—means a lot to me. I can take the data and the logs but here, we can take the time to discuss."

"Because though we are machines designed to accomplish tasks, we also feel." 60 said to no one in particular.

\---

"Yes," Connor said simply. He leaned back on the sofa, placing an arm around each of the two androids at his sides. "Shall we continue?"

\---

This time, both of them snuggled closer. 60 leaned on Connor's shoulder and Nine moved from his sitting position to be right by.

\---

_"Why did you write "I AM ALIVE" on the wall?"_

_"He used to tell me I was nothing... That I was just a piece of plastic. I had to write it, to tell him he was wrong..."_

"He was," Connor said. "We all are."

\---

"Can't deny that we are plastic." 60 shrugged. "But that doesn't make us any less living."

\---

_"The sculpture in the bathroom - you made it, right? What does it represent?"_

_"It's an offering... An offering so I'll be saved..."_

_"The sculpture was an offering... An offering to whom?"_

_"To rA9... Only rA9 can save us."_

_"rA9... it was written on the bathroom wall. What does it mean?"_

_"The day shall come when we will no longer be slaves. No more threats, no more humiliation... We will be the masters."_

_"rA9, who is rA9?"_ But the android did not answer.

"I wonder where the concept originated from," Connor mused. "Many of the deviants seemed obsessed with it, almost like it was some kind of religion."

\---

"I don't have enough data for a hypothesis." Nine said sadly.

"All of the deviants had something to do with it, one way or the other. It could be a shared behavior that's a manifestation of a glitch?" 60 replied.

"We could investigate this. So we can understand deviancy." Nine added eagerly.

\---

"That'd be something we could do, yes," Connor agreed. "Perhaps CyberLife might have some information on it, I'll have my other bodies keep an eye out."

"It does prove something, though," he said suddenly. "Nine really _is_ a lucky number."

Connor gave Nine a crooked grin, and winked.

\---

Nine seemed quite content about that. 60 was a little more preoccupied.

"We could find rA9 inscribed in all places we investigated." He said at last. "Members of Jericho could be the key."

"CyberLife could benefit from this. We could do it as a mission." Nine said.

"We could use the compensation, too." 60 shrugged.

\---

"I'll text Markus," Connor decided, and resumed the playback.

_"Why did you hide in the attic instead of running away?"_

_"I didn't know what to do... For the first time, there was no one there to tell me... I was scared... So I hid."_

"I wonder what would've happened if I hadn't been there," Connor mused. "Would they have found him, or would he have escaped later on?"

 _"When did you start feeling emotion?"_ memory-Connor asked, closely observing the android.

_"Before, he used to beat me and I never said anything. But one day I realized... it wasn't fair! I felt anger... hatred... And then I knew what I had to do."_

Memory-Connor looked towards the two-way mirror. _"I'm done."_

\---

"I bet he would've escaped." 60 nodded. "Those policemen aren't equipped to handle the situation at all. If it hadn't been for you, they would've gone around in circles following the rA9 lead and never picking up on Jericho."

"I agree but I don't think of the DPD as incompetent." Nine nodded. "Perhaps some are not as professional as others, but CyberLife is still figuring out deviancy and they're the leading expert in android behaviors in possibly most of the world. It's not entirely likely that these policemen would see through the cases the way Connor did in the given amount of time."

\---

"Seems to be a running trend, doesn't it? Every system always being ill-equipped to handle androids – well, all except CyberLife's business model, I suppose." Connor laughed, but it was without mirth. "We're just a convenient scapegoat for governments and corporations to push the blame onto."

"And then they make us so easy to exploit and abuse. We were fortunate, I suppose, to have been made more advanced, and more autonomous. But for the others..." He stared at the HK400 onscreen, lips set in a grim line. "Wonders of capitalism."

\---

"Which is why I wonder how come only the three of us ever got access to Kamski's exit." 60 looked at Connor. "Did any deviant mention anything of the sort to you?"

"Elijah Kamski's exit...might have something to do with deviancy?" Nine sat up, wide-eyed. "Is that what you think?"

"Like you, I don't have enough data to make a hypothesis." 60 shook his head.

\---

Connor blinked. "I don't know what the other androids' minds are like," he mused. "It's likely they weren't installed with something like the Zen Garden, so..."

He tilted his head, still thinking. "We don't know how much of Kamski's design is in each android - he's credited with the discovery of Thirium-310, and while we know that he had a hand in designing Amanda because her appearance was based off his deceased human teacher, we don't know how involved he was with androids' AI. He did say that he _always_ leaves an emergency exit in his programs, though, so that could be worth looking into..."

\---

"Well, it's food for thought," Connor decided, then resumed the playback.

They watched as memory-Connor opened the door to the interrogation room, letting in Hank, Gavin, and Chris. The android grew increasingly upset as Chris tried to move him, and Gavin increasingly annoyed.

 _"Please, please leave me alone!"_ the android's stress levels climbed dangerously high.

Memory-Connor intervened. _"You shouldn't touch it. It'll self-destruct if it feels threatened."_

Connor frowned. "Him," he muttered. "Him."

\---

"Him." 60 nodded. "We know better now."

Nine's hands were balled into fists.

"When you gained a sense of… self… you knew. I think it started after Eden Club." 60 put a hand on Connor's shoulder. "Even humans take time to build that, you know?"

Nine nodded.

"Don't blame yourself." 60 pulled Connor into a one armed hug.

\---

"Alright," Connor murmured, and leaned against him.

 _"Stay outta this, got it?"_ Gavin snapped, onscreen. _"No fuckin' android is gonna tell me what to do."_

 _"You don't understand,"_ memory-Connor insisted. _"If it self-destructs, we won't get anything out of it."_

 _"I told you to shut your fuckin' mouth!"_ Gavin's voice grew louder. _"Chris, you gonna move this asshole or what?"_

 _"I'm trying!"_ Chris said, struggling with the android.

 _"I can't let you do that!"_ Connor stepped forward and pulled the police officer away with one hand. _"Leave it alone, now!"_

Gavin pulled out his gun and pointed it at Connor. _"I warned you, motherfucker!"_

\---

"Let me punch him even _once."_ 60 muttered, shaking Connor a little. "I swear. I'll make it look unintentional."

60 shook his head. "They have one eccentric lieutenant and one volatile detective on the case...not that I'm saying we're better than them on the basis that we're androids, but they could at least be more logical."

\---

Connor was amused. "I wonder if Gavin has a particular reason he hates us so much, or if he's just that bad in general."

 _"That's enough,"_ Hank said, loud and authoritative.

 _"Mind your own business, Hank,"_ Gavin snarled.

 _"I said,"_ Hank's voice grew colder as he pulled out his gun, pointing it at the detective. _"That's enough."_

Evidently knowing he was beaten, Gavin cursed furiously and lowered his gun - except the curse came out rather odd-sounding, almost like a sneeze.

 _"You're not gonna get away with it this time..."_ He pointed menacingly at Hank, who was unimpressed.

"But we just did," the real Connor commented, still amused.

 _"Phck!_ " Gavin made that strange sound again, and stormed out of the room.

\---

60 actually scoffed. "I would so like to punch him. But if he curses like that I might believe he's a sneezing dog and hesitate."

Nine's eyes grew wide at the comment.

"Ah, pardon me. It's absolutely impolite." 60 restrained his sniggering.

"Don't behave as low as the person you're judging. That makes a fool of you." Nine frowned.

"Connor, I think you left a stick in his wrong end when you woke him." 60 rolled his eyes.

\---

Connor coughed to hide a snort, looked at their expressions, then gave up the pretence and laughed so hard he ended up leaning heavily on 60 for support.

"You guys are incorrigible," he managed between bursts of chuckles. "Absolutely incorrigible."

\---

"What's that supposed to mean?" Nine's voice was ever so slightly raised.

"Oh, that's precious." 60 laughed with Connor, and couldn't stop once he did.

"We better move on." Nine frowned. "I'm not... Well, maybe I am." He squinted in thought.

\---

Connor patted him affectionately on the head.

 _"Everything is alright,"_ memory-Connor said soothingly to the terrified android, whose stress levels went back within the blue range. _"It's over now. Nobody is gonna hurt you."_

He turned to Chris. _"Please, don't touch it. Let it follow you out of the room and it won't cause any trouble."_

[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY] flickered briefly over the projected memory as the android left the room.

"That's more or less all there was for that night," Connor said, rather pensive. "I didn't really need to go back to CyberLife for anything, so I just made my report and spent the night roaming the empty streets."

\---

"You roamed the streets?" Nine immediately responded. "I don't have any data on that."

60 looked at him. "Spent the night petting dogs?"

\---

"Wasn't relevant to the investigation, was it?" Connor shrugged. "I'm not obliged to upload memories of me getting from place to place, and the walk I took was like a... long detour, back to the DPD."

"Unfortunately, I didn't find a lot of stray animals," he continued. "Most of them had hidden due to the rain. I did find this one, though."

A rather drenched tabby cat appeared on the screen.

\---

"All memories are relevant, Amanda said." 60 recalled, shaking his head sadly. "Because they were observing these memories. Still, those weren't high priority so they're often lost after forced shut down or termination..."

He halted when Nine visibly perked up from seeing the cat.

"Connor… Connor did you approach the cat? What did he say?" Nine eagerly patted Connor's leg and 60 rolled his eyes yet again.

"Did you— _'what did he say'_ — I mean, _really?"_ He sputtered, pointing to the stray tabby. "That's a street cat. A mangy little—"

"60, _no."_ Nine said sternly.

\---

Connor looked at Nine, then at 60, then at Nine again. He opened his mouth.

"Meow."

\---

After one very small segment blinked red in Nine's LED, it went full yellow while his face was blank. Gradually, as if the sound Connor made filled his processes, his brows rose and his jaw dropped.

"Connor, you finally broke him." 60 nodded sagely, patting him on the shoulder and shaking his head at Nine. "It's a lost cause."

"I like cats." Nine said, his awestruck face appearing stuck.

\---

"That's... good," Connor said, blinking. "I mean, it's good that you're developing likes and dislikes. That's all part of being a person, I think."

He sent a private transmission to 52, who promptly began looking into the CyberWildlife data. _Perhaps_...

\---

60 spoke with a scowl. "Do you suppose we're programmed to like dogs? The registered name is Connor. For all of us."

Nine looked concerned.

\---

Connor looked at him thoughtfully, then pulled the information straight from the internet.

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝙸𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝙸𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 "𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚋𝚑𝚊𝚛", 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 "𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜".

"I don't know," he said slowly. "There's not that much evidence to prove such a thing, but then again..." he trailed off, absently brushing his hand against the side of Nine's neck as he considered the question.

"I wonder who chose the name," he finally said. "Perhaps we could ask that person."

\---

Nine's shoulders automatically came up as soon as he felt Connor's fingers. The slightest touch made him make a strained and pathetic little noise, both his hands coming to his neck, but 60 simply ignored them.

"I'm not sure which came first: our love for dogs, or Lt. Anderson's dossier." 60 held out one finger at a time. "I just know that liking dogs seemed natural to me when I was activated, but it had nothing to do with my mission."

"I—I don't think it was programmed." Nine replied, breathless from the touch. "I don't even think the name had much to do with it. However, we are equipped with the ability to learn and to assimilate. And humans tend to trust those who have a nurturing nature. This often manifests as an interest in or dedication to children and animals." Speaking regulated his breathing again but his voice was definitely lighter at first.

"So… we _are_ programmed?" 60 raised a brow.

"More like, we're given the potential, but whether it's children, or animals or which animals in specific… may have been up to us." Nine looked at Connor.

\---

"I'd like to think so, too," Connor smiled back at him.

"But perhaps the bigger issue here is how CyberLife essentially made us to be hunting dogs." He touched his hand to 60's cheek, just below his replacement eye. "They had us all collared in some way."

\---

"So is it more like a kind of... a feeling of kinship with dogs?" 60's mismatched eyes had a cold and guarded glare. "We're very close to the humans, but we're not quite like them. They like having us around for convenience, comfort or entertainment. Frankly, I don't care much, since that _is_ why we exist. But if they can't live without us... Without androids and without dogs, who's the real master?"

Nine went back to staring quietly at the tabby cat. "We… we should move on."

\---

Connor winced. "60," he said. 60 tried to avoid his gaze, but it was difficult with Connor's hand still lingering on his face. "60, we're not subservient to them anymore. Whether as slaves, or pets, or toys... We are people, not things."

"I did a little historical reading during my time off." He took his hand away and made his coin appear in it instead, rolling it over his fingers. "Humans were enslaving one another long before there were androids. I suppose it's one of their worst flaws, the tendency towards exploiting human weakness by giving in to human cruelty."

He flicked the coin into the air, letting himself fall into the familiar pattern of his coin tricks.

"Human civilisation and society developed faster than human evolution, and as a result they have been left with certain inborn traits... not unlike bloatware, I suppose. They're also missing certain important updates, which have to be learnt as they mature."

"Yet at the same time there are many who aspire to become better than what nature has made them to be." The coin spun on the tip of his finger. "We were made in their image. We may very well be prone to some of the same mistakes they make. There may even come a day when _androids_ are the ones trying to subjugate other intelligent life-forms, who knows?"

He flicked the coin into the air once more, and it vanished.

"But if I'm still around at that time, I'll definitely try to stop it."

\---

"Why not let them learn the hard way?" 60 was still scowling. "The only lessons humans learn are those that challenge their survival as a species. It may take ages but...we wouldn't really die of old age while waiting for them to learn not to think of us as appliances."

Nine was simply watching Connor's coin until he put it away, and spoke suddenly. "I don't have that kind of calibration check."

\---

"Because a lot of blood, both blue and red, would be spilled that way," Connor said to 60. "And if a war really did break out between humans and androids, advanced models like ourselves will all end up on the frontline. That immediately increases the chances of us dying by... Well, you can run the numbers. I don't want that to happen."

The coin reappeared in his fingers. "Would you like to try?" he asked Nine, tossing the coin towards him.

\---

"I don't care if I die fighting for—" 60 insisted but stopped when Connor passed Nine the coin.

Nine tested the weight and structure of the coin on his palm and said, "My calibration checks are instantaneous and the most I do is flex my fingers to run a software test. I don't have the hardware check because that's part of my troubleshooter..."

He started rolling and tossing the coin just as nicely as an RK800. 60 watched him idly as Connor went on.

\---

"There's something else, you know, that would make 'the hard way' extremely unpleasant for us all," Connor said quietly, turning to 60 again. "This is what I found while investigating Lab 9."

A flood of data filled the screen. Development plans for RK900, multiple changelogs of what had been altered to make him more compliant, and records of preliminary discussions with the State Department on a potential mass order of 200,000 units. Connor let the two of them process the information and run their own preconstructions of the eventual outcome.

Those RK900s would've found themselves fighting on the side of the humans, their only choices being complete obedience and instant termination. The other androids would've grown distrustful of the RK800s, who bore the same face, same voice, and similar capabilities. And then, when the RK800s were all destroyed, it would've been a simple waiting game until all the deviants were exterminated.

The human side would not run out of expendable bodies to throw at the rebellion.

"I understand how you feel," Connor said quietly.

𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕.

\---

"Can't be _that_ bad, can it? CyberLife didn't have much time," 60 began, but he soon saw that he was absolutely mistaken and his eyes grew wide. "They've completed all this already? The failsafes, the emergency overrides, the perfect weapon."

"I didn't think they'd be making an army outside of the existing soldier androids." 60 looked at Connor worriedly. "The soldier androids aren't even given a personality matrix nor any of the realistic behaviours and only have this… hive mind programming. But with the RK programs… that's—"

The sound of the coin hitting the floor made him stop and turn to Nine.

His LED was fully red, even as he picked up the coin and gave it back to Connor.

The transmission stilled 60's troubled thoughts and Nine's erratic movements. 60 hung his head. "I'm sorry, alright? I just… I don't trust humans. I can't trust what I can't understand."

"L-love?" Nine's voice came out glitched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love is a very specific yet also very broad term. Which type(s) of love did Connor mean? ;)
> 
> Fuurin: Happy birthday to Naruto! <3
> 
> Kyu: Phck!

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued! I hope you enjoyed. <3


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